PATHETIC--Ryuga x Kyoya
by Abductedbyreality
Summary: When Kyoya's forced into an unwanted sleepover with Ryuga, he doesn't expect anything more than a cold shoulder to surface. After all, the two were never really pals—why start now, just because of the circumstances? Although, it's been said that not everything is what it seems...and Kyoya gets much more than he bargained for. RyugaxKyoya/KyoyaxRyuga/RyuKyo. HI GUYS! :D
1. Chapter 1: Dead End

** Hey guys! =7= Thanks so much for clicking on my story, and being curious as to what it is ;3**

** This is a RyugaxKyoya fanfic, and I absolutely adore those two fucks o3o. And if you're homophobic or whatever, this is a clear warning. If you don't like it, then don't read it and don't flame me...this is for people to enjoy that want to enjoy it.**

** That being said, for those of you who are here because you want to be, cheers! Thanks for bothering, aheh. As for time instances go, I'd put this after Metal Masters, before Metal Fury. So unfortunately, people like Dynamis and Johannes and Chris and, sadly, King won't be in this one ;w;. Maybe I'll write one later with them in it :D**

** I do not own MFB, I only own the plot :I**

** Now read on, my goblins~**

**Chapter 1: **Dead End

When it came down to either spending the night with either Ginga or Ryuga, Kyoya wanted nothing of it. But that damn Madoka had to argue her point, and thus arrangements were made for him to camp out at Ryuga's overnight. He'd rather stab himself in the head with a fork then be stuck in a house with Ginga for 24 hours, but that didn't mean he was exactly ecstatic to be hanging out with Ryuga, either. He glared out of the corner of is eye at him. He was lounged back in the drivers' seat, one hand on the wheel and the other in his lap. Kyoya couldn't read his expression; he wore the same menacing scowl he always did, like his face was stuck like that. Something told him that Ryuga wasn't thrilled about this either.

Kyoya was becoming uncomfortable with the silence. "How much longer until we get to your place?" he demanded.

Ryuga glanced at him for a second. "It's just ahead," he answered, and shifted his focus back on the road.

Kyoya nodded, satisfied, and looked out the window. When they'd left Kyoya's place it had been early evening, and it was now getting just dark enough that it was hard to see. The countryside flew past them in a blur of dark smudges. Why did Ryuga have to live so far out of town? They'd been sitting in this car for hours, it seemed. He was itching to stretch his legs and get his blood pumping. He _hated_ sitting still.

The car slowed as they approached a stop sign. He didn't see why; there wasn't a car within a ten-mile radius. The car lurched back forward, and they were off down a dirt road. Kyoya grew suspicious. The last place he expected Ryuga to live was out here. He bit his lip to hold back arguing with him, as much as he wanted to.

A little ways down the road, he could barely make out the _Dead End_ sign. This couldn't be right. His hand clenched securely around his bey case.

"We're here," Ryuga announced, slowing the car again. He turned into a driveway Kyoya hadn't seen because it was clustered with trees. The headlights illuminated a two-story house, with a wide front porch and a garden full of shrubs.

Kyoya's hand slowly eased off his launcher. "You live_ here?_" he asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," he said. He shifted the car into park and started to get out. Kyoya followed suit, taking his suitcase from the trunk.

"It's...nice," Kyoya offered.

"Sure," he agreed, pulling out his keys. He unlocked the door and held it open for Kyoya, who gave him a strange look as he passed.

He took an eyeful of Ryuga's home. It was simple, but cozy. The walls were a plain white, the sofa facing a 32" flat-screen that looked neglected. He suspected Ryuga didn't watch much television. He turned his head right. The room doubled as a kitchen, with all of the bells and whistles-cabinets, a stove, a refrigerator, etc. There wasn't any decorations. No pictures or paintings, not even a houseplant or a calendar or a single magnet on the refrigerator door.

Ryuga set his keys on the counter and immediately dug into the fridge. "If you're hungry, I ordered pizza last night," he said.

Kyoya's stomach rumbled in response. He _was _sort of hungry-it'd been a long trip. "What kind is it?"

"Uh...a three meat. Pepperoni, sausage, and bacon."

"Sold," he crowed, taking a slice from the greasy cardboard box. He bit in eagerly. The cheese was gooey and singed his tongue, and the sauce was rich, like the tomatoes were fresh from the plant. (A/N: I apologize to any of you I am making _extremely_ hungry out there XD).

Ryuga chowed-down his own slice, still searching the fridge. "You thirsty?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks." He moved to the couch and stretched himself out. Ryuga propped himself up against the wall, now dangling a can of Coca-Cola from his fingertips.

"There's a spare bedroom upstairs," he informed, taking a sip of his drink. He motioned with his head that he was going to show him, and headed towards the stairs. Kyoya grabbed his suitcase and trotted behind.

Ryuga picked a door on the right and thrust it open. "If you want a shower before bed, it's across the hall." He saluted goodbye as he turned in the doorway. "My room's first on the left."

"Okay," Kyoya agreed. And then he was gone. He might as well unpack, he decided, as he threw his suitcase on the bed and unzipped the flap. He grabbed his toothbrush and paste and headed towards the bathroom.

Maybe staying with Ryuga wouldn't be so bad.


	2. Chapter 2: Split Personalities

** A/N: Enjoy! :D**

** Chapter 2: **Split Personalities.

Something was purring.

Something was purring _on Kyoya_. He slowly opened his eyes, groggy from a long snooze, and focused his vision.

The first thing he saw was a pair of mischievous peridot eyes that shimmered "hello". They belonged to a small, gray cat, with black tiger-like stripes all down its back and on its face. Seeing Kyoya was awake, its little ears perked up, and a long, thick tail started to swish across Kyoya's thighs. The cat purred louder.

This was the icing on the _freaking cake._ "_RYUGA!_" he hollered.

A couple seconds later, Ryuga was already at the doorway. He was soaking wet, too, with only a tank top and boxers on, a towel around his neck. His eyes fell on the cat, and the corner of his mouth quirked up in surprise. "Hey, you," he chuckled. The cat leapt to its feet and bounded over to him excitedly, and Ryuga cradled it in his arms. "Did you scare poor Kyoya?" he asked with a smirk. He gave it a scratch behind the ears, and it rolled around in Ryuga's embrace, not seeming to mind his drenched body.

"He did _not,_" Kyoya retorted in disbelief, "_scare me._"

"Sure," Ryuga said at him, "that's why you were screaming for help." He set the cat down on the floor, and not before rubbing against Ryuga's leg, it scampered away. (A/N: ASDFGHJKL).

_What the actual fuck, _Kyoya thought, _did I just see?_ "_You_ have a _cat_?" he sputtered.

Ryuga shrugged one shoulder. "Sort of. He's a stray," he explained. He rubbed his towel against the back of his still-dripping-wet hair. He must've just gotten out of the shower. "He arrived a couple weeks ago, and he sort of lives here, and comes and goes as he pleases." He turned to walk out. "He's not bad company. Anyway, your turn in the shower."

"What?"

He pointed backwards in the general direction of the clock. "We need to be at the church by 1:00, remember?"

Kyoya rubbed his eyes and glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 10:23. "Crap," he muttered, leaping out of bed and tearing off his shirt at the same time.

Ryuga watched from the door. "What?" Kyoya demanded.

"Nothing," he countered, a little defensively. Then he cleared his throat, as if to correct himself, and left the room.

/.../

At quarter after eleven, after he was showered and dressed in his tux, Kyoya was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, deciding what to do with his hair. It's not like he cared, but he wasn't sure if he was supposed to do anything with it. He tried pulling out the tie and let his hair fall freely around his face. Then parting it this way and that, then tucking it behind his ears. Nothing looked right, and he was getting frustrated.

A soft knock sounded at the door. "Kyoya?"

"I'm decent," he replied.

The door opened and at first he wasn't sure if it was Ryuga or Ryuto standing in front of him, because his headband was gone. He was in his tux too, and he looked good. _Really_ good. The deep black of his tux contrasted well with his hair, setting it ablaze in white fire. His amber eyes glowed like embers. _Why am I noticing?_ Kyoya turned away, glancing back at his reflection in the mirror.

"Why are you wearing your hair like that?" Ryuga asked.

"I could say the same for you," he shot back playfully.

Ryuga snorted. "C'mere," he ordered, but just approached him anyway. He took the hair tie from Kyoya and turned him around. He felt him brush his hair off of his shoulders, and then the tension in the back of his head increased as Ryuga replicated his ponytail. _This is one of the top ten weirdest moments of my life,_ he thought.

Ryuga turned him in a 180 turn and messed with the hairs at the top of his head. "There," he said finally. "There's Kyoya."

Kyoya scrutinized him carefully. "What?" Ryuga asked, puzzled.

"Why're you being so nice to me?" Kyoya asked bluntly.

He chuckled. "Oh c'mon, Kyoya, I'm not _that_ bad," he said.

_Yes, you usually are,_ he wanted to say as Ryuga headed into the hallway. Instead he followed, grabbing his jacket off the knob and this phone off the sink.

He waited out in the car while Ryuga locked up, admiring the yard now that it was daylight. The lawn was a healthy, lush green, with a rainbow of wildflowers scattered in little patches, bringing it to life. A large, sturdy oak tree big enough to climb towered over the roof in the backyard, and he could see the rim of a pond jutting out from behind the house. Movement caught his eye, and he watched the cat from earlier, the stray, chase after a helpless butterfly. And because no one was looking, Kyoya cracked a little smile.

Ryuga walked out of the house then, strolling down the driveway casually while twirling his key ring around his finger. Kyoya watched him all the way to the car.

Ryuga slid in and started up the vehicle. It awoke with a roar. "Hey, can you do me a favor?" he asked.

"Uh, sure?"

"There's a CD in the glove box. Do you mind putting it in?" He must've been just as sick of the silence as Kyoya was.

He shrugged yes and opened up the compartment. There was a bunch of manuals and maps that probably came with purchase, a flashlight and one CD case. He closed the box and held it up to Ryuga for confirmation. He nodded and put the car in reverse to back out of the driveway.

Kyoya snuck a glance at the CD before he put it in the player. The face was blank-obviously a home ripped one. He pressed Play and waited while the player started up. He didn't know what to expect. Maybe rap? He seemed like a rap person. Or maybe classic rock. He braced himself for some Motley Crüe, but was instead welcomed by a familiar opening melody.

"_Note to Self_?" Kyoya asked, his surprise leaking out through his voice.

"You like From First To Last?" This time it was Ryuga's turn.

"Well, yeah," he agreed, "I listen to them all the time."

"Me too," he murmured. He glanced at Kyoya with interest, then turned his attention back to the road.

Kyoya relaxed in his seat, stretching his legs out underneath him. He closed his eyes and bobbed his head slightly to the song, singing softly under his breath. "_Note to self, I miss you terribly, this is what we call a tragedy, come back to me..._"

He opened one eye when he heard a third voice, and saw Ryuga, his eyes still pinned on the road ahead, moving his lips. They glanced at each other, and then Ryuga reached over and cranked the volume up so loud the seats shook beneath them.

They sang along ridiculously and out of tune to every song on the CD the whole trip, earning honks from other vehicles when Ryuga lost control and the car swerved chaotically out of their lane, almost totaling them. He'd never seen Ryuga act this way before, but considering what he was normally like, this Ryuga was inviting. They approached the church with "_This Song Is A Curse_" blasting out through the windows, earning some exasperated looks from guests. Ryuga wheeled into the parking lot, parking diagonally across two parking spaces. "We live!" he crowed, throwing his hands up into the air, and Kyoya fell back cackling, sliding out of his seat.

Madoka, who was standing out front with Ginga and Masamune, saw them stumble out of the car with as much grace as a drunk, and her eyes got round; rounder than usual. "Kyoya? _Ryuga?_"

"Hey," Kyoya breathed, collecting oxygen and trying not to laugh again.

"Are you okay?" Ginga asked warily.

"Fine." He glanced over at Ryuga, who had composed himself also and was looking away from them. He could see the tiniest hint of a smile across his lips. "Just fine."

** Thanks so much for reading you guys! :3 3**

** Songs Mentioned: **

** "Note to Self"-From First To Last: watch?v=-akyo-zfpn4**

** "This Song Is a Curse"-Frank Iero: watch?v=Av9EzS9golo **

**You don't have to like these songs; it's just the genre of music I always picture Kyoya would like :D.**

** Anyway, thanks again qwq/**


	3. Chapter 3: A Day to Remember

**A/N: So after reading some Draco/Harry smut today...here I am XD**

**Chapter 3: **A Day to Remember

"Hurry up, Hikaru."

"This would go faster if you _stayed still_," she complained. Kyoya sighed heavily, trying to be patient, but it was not one of his specialties. Eventually, Hikaru managed to pin his corsage to his lapel. "There," she said, satisfied. Although it was completely unnecessary, she straightened his tie. "You look nice, Kyoya."

"Thanks," he muttered. He supposed she looked nice, too. Her soft pink dress glittered against her skin, and the matching rose in her hair made her look girly and innocent.

Madoka rushed over, looking identical to Hikaru. "It's starting," she informed, taking her place next to Ginga.

Kyoya zoned out as the music began its cadence, and a young girl with a wreath of flowers in her golden-blond curls whirled down the isle, sending flower petals flying in every direction. He noticed the janitors, hovering to the sides, wince at each petal hitting the floor. Then Ginga and Madoka marched after them, followed by him and Hikaru, and then Tsubasa and a girl that must be here for the bride. Kyoya tried not to fidget or look uncomfortable, but it was hard. It's not like he wanted to be here; he wasn't the best man or anything special, that was Ginga. He'd planned to skip the whole event and stay home, even after Ryo begged for him to be a groomsman. But Madoka set up her system, making sure someone was there to make sure he would still go...

He took his place next to Ginga as he and Hikaru split, and found a nice spot to stare at on the floor. The organist shifted songs, and the wedding march swept through the room. Kyoya continued to stare at the floor, even as everyone else turned to gaze at the bride.

/.../

_Pop!_

Kyoya flinched as Ryo popped the stopper on the bottle of champagne. The crowd erupted in cheers and cat calls, and Ryo kissed his beloved new wife, Fae, for the umpteenth time that day. He poured the glasses and started passing them around. He knew by the end of the night, every person legal and almost-legal in this room would be wasted.

He gingerly picked at the piece of shrimp he was holding. He wasn't even that hungry, but there wasn't much else to do but gawk at the happy new couple or talk to people, and he wasn't much for either.

He glanced at Fae, Ryo's bride. She was striking, her golden hair falling in lose tendrils down her back, her bright blue eyes ablaze with happiness as she gazed at Ryo. Her dress curved in the right areas, then flowed out at the feet, making her look tall and slender. A smile stretched across her face, showing a set of pearly white teeth.

_So what is the problem?_ Kyoya wondered to himself. He'd thought the same thing with Hikaru, and even, desperately, with Madoka. He felt no attraction to any of them; didn't long for them, didn't want to be close to them in that general sense. Sure, they were attractive, he guessed, but he just didn't think of them in that way. Or _any_ girl, for that matter. He let his eyes explore the room, resting on any young female that caught his eye. _Nothing_. Was that supposed to mean something?

His train of thought was intervened by loud voices. When he looked up, Ryo and Fae were cutting up the cake and getting ready to stuff each others' faces. Kyoya'd lost his appetite. He dropped the shrimp back on the platter and excused himself from the room.

He tucked himself in a corner in the hall, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. He couldn't believe it was barely 2:00 yet. He didn't know how he was going to survive the next few hours, let alone until the weary hours of the morning. Maybe he could slip out the back and bail, catch the nearest bus and go home. A plan started to form in his mind...

"Kyoya?"

Kyoya opened his eyes and saw Ryuga standing a couple feet away. He was surprised with the wave of relief he felt. "Hey."

"Avoiding the entire world again?" Ryuga asked. He propped himself up next to Kyoya.

"Yeah," he admitted with a sigh. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the white and black checked tiles on the floor.

"Not much of a people person, are you." It wasn't a question.

"No," Kyoya agreed. "When I'm around so many people, and they're all talking at once, I lose my mind. Like...I can't think straight. It's like they're taking my sanity and picking it apart, bit by bit. I feel crowded...I feel suffocated. Or like I'm being probed."

He wasn't sure why he was telling him all of this. He'd never admitted this to _anyone_, preferring the excuse that people were idiots and that they annoyed the living shit out of him. He probably didn't even care. Still, Ryuga was being uncharacteristically nice as of lately. Kyoya forgot sometimes who it was he was talking to.

"So, you like being alone," Ryuga said.

"I don't thrive on it, but I prefer solitude to _this_." He gestured in the general direction of the party, sill going strong, still alive with the clamoring of voices.

Ryuga nodded, accepting this. "So why do you let Benkei shadow you like he does?"

Kyoya smirked. "He does what I say. Ever since Face Hunter times," he explained, recalling to the old gang he used to be in. "And he just idolizes me so much...sometimes it's nice to be wanted." It dawned on Kyoya that he hadn't seen a blink of Benkei all day. That was unusual.

"Do you really think you're not wanted?" Kyoya was alarmed by the sincerity in his voice, and turned his head towards him. The only word to describe Ryuga's expression was earnest.

"Well...yeah. Madoka thinks I'm a jerk. I mean, I am pretty pathetic, aren't I?" He laughed hollowly. "All I do is try and defeat Ginga over and over again, and no matter how hard I train and how hard I battle, he always beats me. Always. It's pathetic. _I'm_ pathetic," he repeated.

"You're not pathetic, Kyoya," Ryuga insisted. He kicked himself off of the wall and positioned himself so they were facing each other.

"According to who?" he demanded.

"Me." Ryuga reached out and tilted Kyoya's chin up with his finger. Kyoya went rigid at the light touch, and his eyes wandered to Ryuga's feather-soft-looking lips. "You're not pathetic to _me_."

"Ryuga-" Kyoya managed to spit out before Ryuga bent down and planted a kiss on his lips. _Fuck_. It was the only word to describe how Kyoya felt as Ryuga explored the cavern of his mouth, clearly enjoying himself.

_So are you_, a voice inside his head butted in. Truthfully, Ryuga felt good. He tasted amazing, too, like the champagne they'd been passing around. As Ryuga slid his tongue over his, Kyoya let out a moan of delight, wadding his hands into Ryuga's hair. Ryuga took this as a good sign and tucked Kyoya's body into his, his hands sliding to Kyoya's hips and resting them there, interlocking their embrace. Kyoya shivered as Ryuga bit his lower lip and tilted his head further, letting the kiss deepen. (A/N: Excuse me one moment. *Exits room to fangirl privately in the bathroom*.)

"Um..."

Ryuga broke away, and Kyoya, startled, had to collect his breath. He saw what'd bothered Ryuga; a janitor with her cart, just going about her daily business, had stopped to ogle at them. She was covering her nose.

"_Pervert_," Ryuga hissed.

It was in that moment that Kyoya realized what he'd just done. He'd just kissed Ryuga. _Ryuga_. And he'd enjoyed it. _Lord_, he'd enjoyed it.

Oh no.

With Ryuga distracted, his grip on Kyoya had eased enough, and Kyoya was able to bolt out of his embrace. He flew past the janitor as fast as he could in dress shoes, and didn't stop even when Ryuga called after him not once, but three times. He was relieved that he didn't chase after him.

He found a private bathroom and locked the door, but just to be sure he sat in front of it. He covered his mouth with his hands, feeling the swollen, tingling sensation Ryuga had left on his lips. _What the fuck have I done?!_ He curled his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead on top of them. _He kissed me...and I kissed him back..._

_I wanted him..._

The worst part of all of this was Kyoya was sure he was about to cry.

/.../

The car ride to Kyoya's place was tense. Ryuga didn't speak and neither did Kyoya. The CD repeated itself to fill the silence, but the volume was low, and neither of the two dared to sing a note or the unanimous agreement of speechlessness would break.

Ryuga slowed the car as they approached Kyoya's apartment building, letting it run while Kyoya unbuckled and started to get out. He was_ desperate_ to get out of here.

"Kyoya..." Ryuga whispered, barely audible even over the low volume.

Kyoya hesitated despite himself, waiting for him to say something else but he never did. Without saying goodbye, he got out of the vehicle and headed to the building.

He reached his apartment and locked the door behind him. Finally, he was completely alone. He trudged to his bedroom, where he collapsed with newfound exhaustion.


	4. Chapter 4: It's Been a While

**A/N: Hey guys! I just wanted to say thanks to all of you that have read and reviewed so far, it means a lot ;w; You guys are the sweetest little fucks ever, thank you! Enjoy!**

** Oh, and I also wanted to note this: Ryo's wife, Fae, is made up XD I'm pretty sure you realized that, but I don't know :U**

**-Interlude-**

** (3 Months Later)**

"Ryuga? It's me...it's Kyoya. Um, my apartment is currently...unlivable. I need a place to stay someplace for a couple of months. Um...call me back...or whatever, okay?

"...

"Bye."

** Chapter 4: **It's Been a While

_Three months?_ He flopped backwards onto his bed, raking his hands through his hair. His head was throbbing, even after popping four ibuprofen and chasing it down with water. Where the hell was he going to say for _three months?_

When he'd received the word that his building needed a complete rewiring, otherwise risking the possibility of it catching fire, he didn't think much of it until it was tagged on at the end that he couldn't stay here. _Great_. He _really_ didn't need the hassle right now.

But he had no other choice. So, left with that, he'd deliberated his options, mentally crossing them out as he went through the list of possibilities. He first thought of Ginga, and then reconsidered it. Ryo and Fae were still getting comfy with their new life together, and he didn't want to be the person to barge in and fracture the picture, even though he was pretty sure they'd welcome him in with open arms. Ryo was _like_ that. So he was out. Second on his list was Nile. He hadn't seen him in a while, and a smile crept the slightest on his face at the thought of seeing him again. If there was anything close to a friend in his life, it was Nile. He felt his heart sink when he remembered that Nile had flown to Egypt the month before to visit his family, and thus was unavailable. Same with Benkei-he'd called him up a few weeks after the wedding to see where the hell he'd gone AWOL to. Turns out Benkei was visiting his family too; mother was sick. So that was another two down.

He rolled over onto his stomach, propping himself up on his pillows with a sigh. Next on his list was Demure. Unfortunately, he had no way of getting a hold of him. Then Masamune filtered across his mind for some unapparent reason, and he scowled at his headboard. _No_. Besides, he didn't even know where he lived. He'd just recently inhabited an apartment here in Japan, although where he had no freaking clue. Then he thought about Tsubasa and Yu. The option didn't seem so bad, and he pulled his phone out of his pants pocket and dialed the number.

Unfortunately, it wasn't Tsubasa who answered. An overly-cheery voice greeted him instead. "Helllooo?"

Kyoya cringed and pulled the receiver away from his ear. "Um...hi, Yu. It's Kyoya. Can I speak to Tsubasa?"

"Why?" he demanded. He faintly heard Tsubasa's voice in the distance ask: _"Yu, who is it?"_

"Nobody important," Yu called to him. Kyoya felt a pang deep in his gut. "Anyway," he said now, directing it back to Kyoya. "Anything you want to ask Tsubasa, you can ask me."

"Fine," he spat, a little annoyed and a little offended. "I wanted to ask if you have any room for me to stay for a little while...I can't stay at my apartment."

"Why? You offend the landlord or something?"

"_No_, God. Everyone in my building has to stay elsewhere for a little while...safety hazard."

"Oh. Well, I can't help you there, Yo-Yo." Kyoya clenched his teeth at the nickname Yu insisted on calling him. "Sorry, but there's no room. Tsubasa and I are already stretching the space as it is. Besides, you might blow a wall out or something."

"Oh, c'mon. Give me more credit..."

"Sorry. It's the way it is."

"Fine," he snapped, and jammed his thumb into the end button, perhaps too forcefully. _Damn._ That was his one and only hope. He inhaled deeply and tried to remain calm, continuing to scroll through the list in his mind.

No luck prevailed with _any _of them, not even Hikaru, who was usually really nice to him. He let out an exasperated growl when Kenta had sadly announced that nope, no room, can't do, sorry. He glared venomously at the ceiling, actually beginning to think that he might have to live out on the street for this time period. He couldn't afford to stay at even the cheapest motel at that stretch of time. But something tugged at the corners of his mind, something buried deep in the back, and he lied there, puzzling over it when suddenly it dawned on him with a faint _ping._ He gritted his teeth and groaned. He had a solution, the perfect one if not for one _teensy_ problem.

The fact that this person who he knew without a doubt would let him stay he was currently avoiding with all his life.

But still. Did he have any other options? He ran his thumb over the screen of his Android, tracing around the call button. Then, with a deep breath, he pressed it and held it up to his ear.

/.../

He was so relieved when it went to voicemail he let all his air out at once, like the air from a balloon. He called back later, and Kyoya let it ring, watching it attentively like it was a time bomb. Of course, he was right-Ryuga said he could stay, and that'd he'd be there to pick him up soon. So he went about his bedroom, stuffing things into his battered suitcase, hesitating when he had reached to his insomnia pills. He clenched his jaw and reluctantly tossed them in. He'd had a horrible time falling asleep the last few months, no matter how tired he was. He was stubborn about having to take medicine for it, but the lack of any sleep had taken him, forcing him to consider it, and then go through with it. So they became a necessity.

After throwing in some other miscellaneous items like deodorant and his toothbrush, he was set and entertained himself by pacing the room, then double checking everything he'd packed, then sitting on his bed, gazing longingly down at Leone. He'd had no energy to train, either, which was alarming enough. He _lived _for Beyblade; it was his life. Him and Leone were a package deal. Every time, though, he brought Leone out of its case, all he wanted to do was stare at its face bolt and examine it, waiting for the adrenaline to kick in. Eventually he'd grow tired of it and put it back, climb into bed, and lie there, staring at the wall next to him, memorizing the paint chips.

He saw Ryuga's car pull up in front of the building out the window, and he bolted out of his room to meet it. He climbed in the passenger side without looking at him, setting his suitcase in the backseat and buckling in. Ryuga was silent as well as he drove away, but he did turn on the radio, the volume still low.

As the trip stretched to twenty minutes, Kyoya looked up from his eyelashes at Ryuga. His hair was longer, and strands fell into his yellow eyes. His face was completely blank, like he didn't have a thought in his head. His infamous white jacket, usually kept secure around his neck, was in his lap. He looked older somehow, if that was even possible in just three months. Or maybe it was the bags under his eyes. Kyoya had to look away.

_Say something...anything! You owe him this! C'mon..._"Th-thanks...for this," he whispered.

Ryuga nodded. "Anything for you."

Kyoya hated the blush that crept up his cheeks. Sliced through the heart with a guilt-coated dagger. Damn. Why did Ryuga have to do what he did? It complicated _everything_. His fists clenched into tight balls as he looked out the window.

They didn't speak the rest of the drive.

/.../

Kyoya felt an odd twinge of relief and dismay bottled together when they pulled into Ryuga's driveway. Relief because being in the car with him was intense enough to cut _diamonds_, dismay because he was going to live with him, with this tension, for the next _three whole months_. He stumbled out of the car before Ryuga could even stop it.

He received his suitcase and trudged after him, watching his feet with vague interest. Ryuga unlocked the door and held it open for him again. Kyoya flashed him a meek smile as he piled in, not pausing in the doorway, instead making a beeline for the stairs, dragging his suitcase behind him.

"Kyoya?" Ryuga called from the door. His voice sent trembles down his spine. He didn't realize how hard it would be to face him again.

"I-I'm tired. I'm just going to crash...okay?"

"Okay."

He threw himself in the guest bedroom and fell backwards onto the mattress, the cushy comforter swallowing his body. Below him, he could hear Ryuga moving around, the clanking of his footsteps becoming an uneven rhythm. Kyoya sighed and even though he knew sleep wouldn't take him, he shut his weary eyes.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! :3**


	5. Chapter 5: Rapunzel

**A/N: Hey guys! :3**

** So...I want to say that I finally saw **_**Frozen**_** today...and bloody hell, that ARTISTRY! It was beautiful, I have to say. **

** Anyway. Here's chapter 5 for you guys. Enjoy, my goblins~ ;3**

** Chapter 5: **Rapunzel

Kyoya spent the next couple of weeks hiding in the guest room, spending time to get comfortable. He knew confrontation would eventually come-it haunted him every night-but in the meantime he was perfectly happy locked up here, like Rapunzel in her tower.

Ryuga met his wishes to be left alone, but occasionally he could see him pacing behind the door. Kyoya _did_ want to talk to him, but he was afraid beyond belief. Afraid of being hurt, afraid of showing any more emotion to him. And, just slightly, afraid of Ryuga.

Afraid of what he might say.

For now though, Kyoya explored his room, rummaging through the drawers for anything interesting, but they were mostly empty except for a couple of spare bath towels and the like. There was a bookshelf on the right wall, and he spent a great deal of time engrossing himself in the stories within. He'd never finished a book in less than a week before, but with nothing better to do, he began to read 400 page novels daily. One of his favorites was a book called _Wuthering Heights_. He kept it on the nightstand and occasionally flipped to his favorite parts. He did this now, the spine worn from flipping to the page so many times.

_**"This is nothing," cried she. "I was only going to say that heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing for joy. That will do to explain my secret, as well as the other. I've no more business to marry Edgar Linton than I have to be in heaven; and if the wicked man in there had not brought Heathcliff so low, I shouldn't have thought of it. It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now; so he shall never know how I love him: and that, not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire."**_

Kyoya closed the book with a snap, setting it back on its perch and rolling over onto his side. He debated what to do next, because he'd grown tired from reading for the day. A thought struck him and he pushed himself closer to the edge of the mattress, reaching underneath it to pull out a stack of papers and a clipboard, along with a plain #2 pencil.

When he wasn't reading, he pulled out some paper and drew. He'd dabbled in drawing for many years now, keeping some of his sketches underneath his mattress at home. It wasn't exactly something he wanted to show off; it was like his dirty little secret. Still, he found himself absently sketching at the most absurd of moments. His style could be easily noted; mostly grotesque, morbid stuff, or monsters and demons. He slipped a fresh sheet out from the middle, pressed out any creases, and sketched a rough circle. He flexed his hand and got to work.

About halfway through, Kyoya fell out of his zone and stared down at what he'd started drawing. It was a dragon, from the neck to its horns, its jaws open, exposing its hideous, jagged fangs. Kyoya gritted his teeth, irritated with himself, and almost scrapped the drawing. _Almost_. A little voice in the back of his head told him he was being ridiculous. He bit his lip and decided to put off drawing for now, sliding the page back in its place and stashing the papers back under the mattress. He then proceeded to stuff his face into the pillows with a groan strangled in his throat. His stomach gurgled in response.

He rolled over, gazing up at the pitch-white ceiling thoughtfully. He was ravished, and he'd eaten the last of the protein bars he'd shoved into his suitcase at the last minute for lunch. That left him with no other choice but to head to the kitchen. It was risky business. Ryuga could still be awake and catch him, and Kyoya'd have to talk. He glanced at the clock-2:34 AM. There was still the possibility Ryuga was still half awake, but it couldn't be helped. So he slowly slipped off the bed, nudged the door open and crept into the hall.

It was dead silent except for the occasional creak or grind and other house noises houses seemed to make at night. He kept the door slightly ajar to avoid having to close it and snuck down the hall like a snake. He paused outside of Ryuga's room and put his ear up to the door, and could hear the soft snoring from within. He let himself relax and continued to the kitchen.

He grappled around for something to hold onto so he wouldn't crash into anything and found the counter ledge. He followed it up to the refrigerator and slowly opened the door. A shock of bright white light filtered into the kitchen, and he had to blink furiously to focus his eyes.

Lo and behold, right on the top shelf was what must've been tonight's dinner: a plate of leftover spaghetti, wrapped trimly and sitting pretty by a carton of milk. Kyoya felt himself grin a little, and pulled it out and set it next to him, then a bottle of juice from inside the door. Now, where did Ryuga keep the silverware...

"This ends now," a voice whispered.

Kyoya's heart stopped dead, and an icy chill dripped steadily from his head to his toes. _Oh, fuck_. He felt something shift behind him, and the kitchen flooded with fluorescent lights, so blinding Kyoya had to shield his eyes.

He turned a margin towards Ryuga nervously. His hair was tousled, bed-headed from sleep, and was only in sweatpants, which did not help matters at all. Ryuga caged him with his body, gripping both sides of the fridge to block any chance of exit. Kyoya was trapped.

"Look," Ryuga whispered. He was desperately trying to meet Kyoya's eyes, but Kyoya wouldn't let him, afraid to be spellbound. "I didn't exactly expect you to jump for joy when I...did what I did, but this didn't cross my mind either."

"You kissed me," was all Kyoya could say.

"I know what I did, Kyoya Tategami." The way Ryuga said his full name made him tremor. "Because I _intended _to do it. I _wanted_ to kiss you."

"Why?" he demanded.

"Because I like you." But before he could even finish his sentence, Kyoya was already shaking his head.

"No, you don't."

"I think I would know."

"_Why_?" he said again, more urgent this time. To take the cake, his eyes were welling up. He'd never cried this much in his life. _Fucking fuck of a fuck...I hate this. I hate this _so _much_.

"Why is it so hard for you to believe that someone likes you?"

"Because!" _Because I spent my entire _life _not being liked_. "Especially since it's _you_!" He made the mistake of tilting his head up, and got caught in the gaze of Ryuga's ember eyes, earnest as though he might kiss him again. It snapped a piece inside of him, a bazillion pieces, the entire structure, and Kyoya lost it. He ducked his head and shielded his eyes, because he didn't want anyone to see him cry. But he was on the closest verge of, the tip of the iceberg. He tore his hands from his face and pivoted, sending his foot straight into the belly of the refrigerator, a scream ripping from his throat. "_FUCK THIS_!" he exclaimed. "FUCK _ALL _OF IT!" He then shoved his hands into Ryuga's chest, and it only sent him back an inch. "I mean, what the hell is _wrong_ with you?! You act like a complete ass to me the entire time I've known you, and then all of a sudden you _kiss me_?! Quit playing with me! I MEAN IT!"

Ryuga removed his barrier so he could take Kyoya's shoulders in his hands, trying to steady him. Kyoya squirmed and fought, but eventually caved and let Ryuga pull him into his chest, his arms slipping around him like a security blanket. Kyoya buried his face in Ryuga's collarbone, breathing deeply and letting the tears dry before they could escape his tear ducts. The shakes that racked his body steadied into ripples before they died and his breathing became even again. It was almost like Ryuga was a remedy, easing away his troubles with just the heat of his skin.

Ryuga weaved his fingers through Kyoya's and led him carefully to the couch, picking up the juice along the way. Kyoya nestled into the arm and took the blanket that was offered to him, as well as the juice. Ryuga sat next to him, but let Kyoya stretch his legs out on the cushions. "Can you please explain to me where all of this is stemming from? I'm really confused," he said.

Kyoya noted how he was hedging around his questions, but the fact that someone wanted him to talk, to hear his story and what he had to say let him shake it off. He took a long sip from his juice while he tried to form words. It was hard to do without sounding feeble. "When I was a kid...," he began, "I went to a Catholic school, called Sacred Heart Academy. I was bullied...," he took a staggering breath, "a lot."

Ryuga waited patiently for him to continue. And since it comforted Kyoya, knowing that he cared, he did. "They...they made fun of my long hair and called me unintelligent names like _faggot _and _queer_. One time..." Kyoya swallowed. He peeked up at Ryuga, and just one look in his eyes reassured him enough to continue. "One time they filled my locker with pig guts. And another time...some guys pinned me down and cut me up with a pair of scissors. That's how I got these." He gestured with his index finger to the cross-shaped scars that started below his eyes and stretched all the way down his cheeks.

"I didn't have any friends, either, and the teachers never game me a second glance. That's how I got into Beyblade. I was able to be myself and train by myself, observing and noting different elements. It was a way to escape. I was alone so much...I had a lot of time to train."

Ryuga was quiet while he let it sink in. Kyoya was watching him, waiting for a look that could be expected, like the beaten-puppy look. Instead, all Ryuga said was: "So that's why you are the way you are."

Kyoya said nothing, just circled the circumference of the bottle with his finger. Eventually, he nodded.

"Kyoya," Ryuga said, reaching over and steadily taking Kyoya's hands, as not to startle him. "I don't expect you to like me back. But from now on, you _do _have a friend, okay? _I'm _your friend."

Kyoya stared at him, his face blank with surprise. He wasn't sure what to say. "Th-thanks," he eventually stuttered, even cracking a tiny smile.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! :D**

_**Wuthering Heights **_**© Emily Brontë.**


	6. Chapter 6: Fall For You

** A/N: Hi all my lovelies! :3**

** I hope you're all enjoying a nice spring break so far...or at least what's become of it, heh. *stares out at all of the muddy snow*. Hopefully you're out and about and not stuck at home while your brother is off in fucking **_**FLORIDA**_** like me. I raise my mug to you, great one! o3o Which reminds me...I need another cup of coffee...*looks over shoulder***

** Anyway. And, in case you're halfway across the world or something and it's nowhere **_**near**_** spring where you are, I hope you had an awesome weekend. :3**

** Oh! Also: I received a review asking if Chapter 5 was the end. *Folds hands wisely*. And here is my answer: FUCKING NOPE! :D *dances wildly***

** I've been writing this story ever since late January, a few weeks before my birthday in February, in a series of notebooks. That way I could be out eating dinner with my mom and aunt, and in case they get so wrapped up in their conversation that they forget I'm there, I can pull it out and work on it. (My laptop is currently nonexistent. I'm saving up for one ;w;.) I wanted to make sure, before I started just tossing chapters onto the internet, that I would actually go through with this. Because, let's face it: you've probably had that moment when you're SO absorbed in a story, it's just so fucking **_**brilliant**_**, and then...all of a sudden...the author suddenly disappears without warning, or just scraps the story because they think its quality is bad. IT SUCKS.**

** Anyway, so needless to say, I've had this story prepared for a while, and that first, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon ; 3;. Secondly, that this story has barely begun. In the notebooks, I won't say **_**exactly**_** how many chapters there are, (that'd ruin the suspense *wiggles eyebrows*) but I will say that there is much, **_**much **_**more to come, and I will definitely say when I feel like it's about to end...*smiles***

** Anyway. REALLY long authors note, sorry...but I thought I'd clear that up publicly, in case any of you were wondering :I.**

** So. Without further ado...*drum roll* Chapter 6! Happy reading! :D**

** Chapter 6:** Fall For You

When he awoke, he was back in the guest bedroom, tucked underneath the covers like a 5-year-old. He didn't remember going back to bed; he and Ryuga had stayed up all night watching television. His face flushed a little. That meant Ryuga must've carried him back to bed.

A gray streak leaped onto the bed, startling him. But he smiled crookedly when he saw those familiar peridot eyes. "Hey, you," he said, giving the cat a scratch behind the ears. He purred happily and snuggled himself into Kyoya's abdomen, showing off all of his parts to anyone who cared to look. Kyoya snickered and proceeded to give him a belly rub. "You missed me, huh?" The cat purred in response.

When he reached up to scratch him underneath the chin, his fingers brushed against something leather, and his hand froze. He pressed down some of the fur on the cat's neck, exposing a dark green collar with a bright, shiny tag.

/.../

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

Kyoya smirked, un-amused, and was about to come up with a witty comeback when he inhaled the mouth-watering aroma of fresh sausage. "Breakfast?"

Ryuga swept his arm out, gesturing formally to a table piled of plates of every breakfast food you could think of: eggs, sausage, muffins, bagels just to start. Kyoya leapt down the stairs and plopped himself down in a chair, serving himself heaping fulls. "This smells fantastic."

"Thanks," Ryuga said, "it's straight from Bob Evans." Kyoya had to laugh.

He glanced at Ryuga's empty plate. "Aren't you going to eat anything?"

"I already ate," he informed. He reached over and picked up his glass of orange juice.

Kyoya shoved a mouthful of eggs into his mouth. "So you decided to adopt the cat?"

He narrowed his eyes, but the corner of his mouth curled up. "You saw him?"

"He greeted me this morning."

He nodded. "I filled out the papers about a month ago."

"What's his name?"

He didn't answer. Kyoya looked up curiously, and took in Ryuga's uneasy stance. His arms were crossed defensively, and he wasn't meeting Kyoya's eyes, instead finding something rather interesting in the floor tiles. "Ryuga," Kyoya said, growing suspicious, "_what's his name_?"

Ryuga looked guilty. He bit and pressed his lips together, then sighed heavily. "Leone," he confessed.

Kyoya's fork paused on the way to his mouth, as if he'd forgotten how to eat. He gawked at Ryuga, who was still averting his gaze. He set his fork down and folded his arms across his chest, smirking deviously. "Leone," he repeated.

"Yeah." He frowned when he saw Kyoya chortling. "_Stop laughing_. It was meant as a compliment."

"I'm taking it as one," Kyoya agreed. "It's just...wow. You have it _bad_ for me, don't you?"

Ryuga smacked his lips. "Yeah," he said again. Kyoya could tell he wanted to change the subject. And he did. "So, what do you want to do today?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, what do you usually do all day?"

"Bey training," he answered. Of course. "This yard gives me lots of open space to practice, and there's no whiney neighbors hollering at me to keep it down."

Ah-ha. A light bulb went off in Kyoya's head. _That_ explained why he lived out here. "Maybe we can train together," he offered. "I haven't gotten a chance to use Leone in a while."

Ryuga raised his bushy eyebrows. "That sounds like a great idea," he agreed. He pulled back his chair. "I'll get started. You finish stuffing your face, and then come out and join me."

Kyoya snorted and proceeded to finish his meal. He watched Ryuga grab his jacket and head outside, and smiled a little._ So this is what having a friend feels like_, he thought.

Before he left, he washed all of the dishes and put away all of the leftovers, then headed outside.

/.../

"GO LEONE!"

In one sweep, Leone cleared a string of trees, ripping them out by the roots and sending them flying into the air. They crashed to the ground, a tremor rippling through the Earth as they landed. Kyoya reached out, and Leone flew back into his hand.

"Not bad," Ryuga said. He was observing from behind. "Can I suggest something?"

Instantly, Kyoya put up his defenses. "_What_?"

"Relax, it's a _suggestion_. Not a criticism. You don't even have to tell anybody," he added with a grin. He placed his hands on Kyoya's shoulders. He wondered if he was just doing this just to be able to touch him. "You're really tense. Relax your shoulders a bit more; the launch will be smoother."

Kyoya didn't like being helped, but he forced himself to hold his tongue. He reloaded Leone and sagged his shoulders a bit, like suggested, and aimed forward.

"Good." Ryuga pointed towards another row of trees. "Now try that again."

Kyoya grumbled to himself, then ripped his launcher. "GO!" he howled.

Leone blasted through the leaves, shredding them like it had claws. It cleared the trees like before, but this time the impact was more impressive. Instead of just making them fly through the air, this time Leone smashed clean through them, bits of bark exploding like confetti at a party. Kyoya gasped in incredulity.

"See?" Ryuga was smirking as Leone soared back into Kyoya's hand. "I might know a thing or two."

"Thanks," Kyoya muttered, because it was needed.

"C'mon. We're not nearly finished."

/.../

Until dusk the two trained, separate and together, battling each other and the elements. Ryuga _did_ know a lot, and it shrunk Kyoya's confidence a little. But he was learning fast. He could feel the difference in each little trick he was taught, and he could see the improvement, and it made him excited.

Ryuga glanced at the sun, which was low in the sky, the horizon cascaded with red, orange, and gold. "We should head inside. Are you hungry?"

"You bet."

They piled into the house and heated up leftovers for dinner, which they ate in front of the television. "What the hell is this?" Kyoya demanded, watching the opening credits flash across the screen.

"It's called _Naruto_," Ryuga explained. "Every now and then it comes on and I sit and watch. I think you'll enjoy it. _Lots_ of violence."

He was right, of course. He didn't understand the plot at all, but there was tons of action and violence, and it was kind of funny sometimes, too. He even laughed once.

They were sitting through the fourth episode and Kyoya felt his eyes start to droop closed. The sun had set without acknowledgement, and the house and the windows were dark, the only light from the screen. He rested his head into the back of the couch and nudged against Ryuga's shoulder. His eyes were only half open.

"Are you tired?" Ryuga asked him. Softly, as if speaking above a whisper would break the peaceful atmosphere that encircled them.

_Beat_, he thought, but shook his head no. He didn't want to move, and it was such a good episode. Ryuga must be able to read minds, though, because he led Kyoya into his arms and stretched out so they were lying across the couch, Kyoya on top of him. Ryuga rested in the corner, and because Kyoya was sleepy-_so_ sleepy-he laid his head on Ryuga's chest.

"I thought..." Kyoya said over a yawn. "I thought they hated each other." He gestured towards the screen half-heartedly, towards a weeping Naruto crouching over a bloody, beaten-up and ghastly Sasuke. Then he conked out, right on top of Ryuga.

** A/N: Oh look, I put some **_**actual**_** Beyblade into a chapter, heh :U**

** Thanks so much for reading! A new chapter will be up soon ;3**


	7. Chapter 7: What Are You So Scared Of?

**A/N: New chapter, guys! :3 Happy reading.**

** Chapter 7: **What Are You So Scared Of?

"_Meow_."

Kyoya stirred, becoming aware of a sharp kink in his neck. He groaned and rubbed his eyes with his hand.

"_Meow_." More impatient this time.

He glanced down. The cat-sorry, _Leone_-was sitting next to the couch, gazing up curiously. When his eyes met his, his tail flicked.

"Hey, boy," Kyoya said with a grin, rubbing the top of his head. "What's up?"

"_Meow_."

"You hungry?" he asked. _Meow_. "Okay, gimme a sec." He started to get up and tried not to wake Ryuga, but it was hard. They must've fallen asleep together. Ryuga had an arm around him, gluing them together. Kyoya couldn't find his other hand, and then realized it was cupped inside Ryuga's. _Mush_, Kyoya accused inside his head, and peeled himself away from him.

He searched around the house and found a bag of cat food tucked into a closet and filled Leone's dish. Leone happily pranced over, rubbed his backside against Kyoya's calf, then chowed in.

Kyoya started to brew a pot of coffee, and set up some mugs next to it. He headed back into the living room where Ryuga was still passed out on the couch. He towered over his head, smiling mischievously. He leaned in close, brushing his lips next to Ryuga's ear. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he purred as seductively as he could, just to tease him.

Ryuga stirred and creaked open his blazing golden eyes, looking up at him in a haze. He grinned and mumbled something like, "Best way to wake up, _ever_," and sat up, stretching his arms in front of him.

"I'm making coffee," Kyoya announced, and Ryuga moved faster.

Kyoya poured the cups of Joe while Ryuga searched the fridge for cream and sugar. Kyoya raised an eyebrow. "I always assumed that you took it black," he admitted.

He shook his head. "I used to, but creamer tastes awesome." He poured like 3 gallons into his, and then offered it to Kyoya. He took it, a little amused.

"I fed Leone," he announced.

"Ah, I was wondering where the little shit was. Thanks." He took a giant swig of his coffee and sighed happily.

"So what's on the agenda for today? More bey training?"

"Actually, no," he said, to Kyoya's surprise. "I'm driving into town today. I've got errands to run."

He couldn't picture Ryuga doing something so…mundane. Of course he had to, if he was going to survive on his own, but Kyoya doubted he even had a job, because he never left for it. How did he make a living, then? How could he afford a house?

"So…what do I do all day?" he asked.

"What did you do when you were avoiding me those first two weeks?"

He dipped his head. "I read…a lot."

Ryuga lowered his mug. "Read what?"

"You have a bookshelf in the guest room. Those books."

He looked astounded. "_Those_? I got that bookshelf at a garage sale last spring. Those books just came with it…I've never touched them."

"They're pretty good," he admitted. He decided not to mention anything about his drawing stash. Especially the dragon one.

"Well, why don't you come with me today, then? In case you've gone stir-crazy."

Kyoya chuckled. "Sure."

/.../

The first stop was the grocery store. Kyoya offered to push the cart—he actually kind of _wanted_ to—but Ryuga said it was fine and pushed it himself. He watched him, intrigued, as he piled in milk, cheese, meat, and vegetables. He knew exactly what he needed without a list. And Kyoya was right; it was _bizarre_ to see Ryuga act so normal. He almost wanted to take a picture, but that'd be rude.

They paid for everything and Ryuga stuffed the bags into the trunk. "What now?" Kyoya asked as Ryuga started the car.

"Mall," he replied.

/.../

"What the hell do you need _here_?" Kyoya demanded as they stepped inside. Even though it'd become autumn, when they walked in the AC crawled all over their skin, plummeting the temperature to below freezing. He shivered, hugging his arms. He wished he'd grabbed his jacket...

Ryuga, sensing this, willingly took off his and held it out for him. Kyoya shook his head, but Ryuga draped it over his shoulders anyway. Kyoya sighed and slipped his arms through the sleeves, throwing him a thank you.

"No problem. As to why I'm here, no particular reason." He saw Kyoya's puzzled face and added, "I like to window shop."

Another surprise. He was full of them today.

He followed him through the maze of people, glancing at stores they passed. They didn't talk much; it was too loud to. _Extremely _loud, Kyoya realized. Someone rammed into his back and he bristled, folding his arms in and returning the apology. A girl spotted her friend across the mall and shrieked like a banshee, practically propelling Kyoya into a mannequin as she bounded over, where they collapsed into a fit of giggles at the presence of one another. He could dimly hear the sound of a child crying. He instinctively clapped his hands over his ears, crushing his eyes shut. _You're not here, you're not here, notnotnot_... he repeated to himself. He could feel himself start to panic, his heart squeezed with anxiety. He couldn't breath. He was _drowning_. He was drowning in an ocean of people, and they were too close and the air was cold and so was he and everything was _too close too close too_-

Something latched onto his pinkie. He opened his eyes and realized it was Ryuga's own, wringing tight. A life preserver. Ryuga was staring at him with concern, and his normally intense eyes were soft. _"You okay?"_ he saw him say, but it was so deafening in here, he might as well have mouthed it. Kyoya didn't know how to answer—his mind was woozy and the corners of his vision were faded—but he didn't need to. It was clear on his face. "Breath," Ryuga instructed.

So he did—deeply. Once, twice, then a third, and by then some oxygen that had escaped edged back into his lungs. He smiled a little bashfully and squeezed his pinkie against Ryuga's, feeling at ease.

"Better?" Kyoya nodded. "Good. C'mon, then."

Ryuga never wandered away from him after that. He loyally kept by his side all throughout the mall, and Kyoya was grateful.

They passed by a column of sunglasses that were put outside a clothing store, and Kyoya watched them and paused. "Hey, Ryuga," he called, letting go of his hand. Ryuga backtracked to see what was up. Kyoya pulled a pair of dark, oversized ones out of their compartment and slid them over his eyes. Instantly, his vision flooded with blackness. "Check it out," he giggled—it was the only word appropriate for his laugh—and faced him, standing as straight as a pin. He twisted his expression to that of stone-cold seriousness. "_I'll be back_," he warned, in his best Arnold Swartzinager impression.

"Pfft." Ryuga was covering his mouth and trying not to laugh—which seemed legit; Ryuga didn't _laugh_—but it showed by the crinkling in his eyes. "Cute," he complimented, taking them off of him and putting them back in their place on the rack. Kyoya had to blink rapidly as the light crashed back into his retinas. Ryuga then lead Kyoya forward, pulling him away before he could try on the heart-shaped ones.

"Hey, _Journey's_." Ryuga stopped outside a small shop that had its shelves stacked to the ceiling with overpriced shoes, snapback hats and graphic t-shirts. He plopped a Cookie Monster themed cap on Kyoya's head. It was a little big and fell over his eyes. Kyoya grinned and dunked an Elmo one on Ryuga's head in return.

"We should get these," he suggested.

Ryuga snorted, straightening the bill of his cap so it was slightly off-center. "Why?"

"_Because_," he said. "Because we can."

He approached him and straightened the hat so he could look into his ocean-blue eyes. "Well, you _do_ look as cute as hell," he agreed, eyes dancing mischievously.

After purchasing them, they continued strolling through, pointing at things that caught their eye. Kyoya flushed burgundy when Ryuga stuffed a Spirit Hood on him, especially when he crowed "_NOW_ you're a lion!", and Kyoya chucked it at him, trying desperately to swallow a laugh.

"Hey." Ryuga pointed towards the center of the mall eagerly. "A photobooth. C'mon."

He pulled Kyoya forward, and he willingly followed behind up until he was in a 3 feet radius from it, then dug his heels into the floor.

Ryuga glanced over his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"I don't like getting my picture taken," he revealed.

"Why?"

"Because..." _I hate my appearance..._ "I just..."

"Kyoya, trust me," Ryuga pleaded. He interlocked pinkies with him again, and Kyoya's heart skipped a beat. "Camera's aren't going to hurt you." He continued to, but more gently now, lead him into the photobooth.

He popped a couple quarters into the slot and sat next to him. He nudged Kyoya, who was still looking quite uncomfortable. "Smile," he whispered. "You have a nice smile."

He attempted to, but just a baby one. He watched as Ryuga turned his head back to face the camera, ready for the shot. He was probably surprised when Kyoya stole his chin, turning him back so they were face-to-face and crushed their lips together. He didn't know why he hadn't done it sooner; his heart was practically leaping out of his chest with the need.

Ryuga was taken aback and didn't move at first, then seemed to register that this was really happening and welcomed him into his arms, then into his lap. Kyoya crawled onto it, his knees resting on Ryuga's legs and letting himself fall into him. Ryuga was busy exploring the cavern of his mouth, every inch exposed to the magnificence of Ryuga's tongue. Kyoya shivered and wrapped his arms around Ryuga's neck, intertwining his fingers and locking the two of them together. Meanwhile, his partner broke away to kiss his jawline instead, leaving a trail of heat all the way up to his ear, where he sucked on the lobe. It tickled, and Kyoya giggled, squirming against him.

The camera wasn't apparent that they were busy and continued to snap pictures. Ryuga, seeing this, cracked one eye open and covered the lens with his hand.

** A/N: Thanks again for reading, you guys! :D I told you there was more to come ;3**

** Oh, and in case you're not aware of what a Spirit Hood is…(should it be capitalized?) it's one of those fluffy animal hats with the paws o3o/ I have one, and I adore it. For a while I wasn't sure which animal it was, though—it didn't say—but after doing some extensive research, and going to website after website…nope, still no clue, heh ;.; But then I Googled "cheetah" and…myup, it's a cheetah :U**

** Anyway. Thank you, my lovelies! I hope you enjoyed ;3**


	8. Chapter 8: Ease My Mind

**A/N: Hey, guys! :3**

** I had plans to upload a chapter yesterday, but got sidetracked with finishing another chapter, and then an eye doctors appointment. I'm going to have new glasses by next Friday! :D So I can throw the ones I have on in the trash. Myup.**

** Anyway. Here's your new chapter! :3 Happy reading!**

** Chapter 8:** Ease My Mind

"_Move over_," Kyoya commanded. His smile devilish, Ryuga finally scooted over a margin, allowing room for him to sit on the couch. When Kyoya was seated and pinched between his knees, Ryuga grabbed a blanket from beside him and wrapped them together like you would a burrito.

Kyoya snuggled into him, enjoying the combined heat from the blanket and the natural heat from Ryuga. "Is _Naruto_ on?" he asked, a hopeless addict.

"I don't think so," Ryuga replied. He was flipping through the channels, searching for it. "I think _Bleach_ is, though."

"I'll take it," he decided.

They watched together in silence, but comfortable silence. Comfortable was a word Kyoya was getting used to. Ever since they'd officially started dating as a couple, all he'd felt was security. And something else, too...a warm, bubbly feeling deep in his chest that he'd never experienced and couldn't name. He liked it, but could never understand it...

"Hey, Kyoya," Ryuga hummed during a commercial break.

"Hmm?"

"You never explained to me why you were so afraid of confronting me."

He swallowed. "Sure I did," he declined, pushing his somber backstory away from his mind.

"Not exactly; you explained why you're a loner, but you hedged around my original question."

"I wasn't afraid of you..."

"Running away after I kissed you. Locking yourself upstairs and living off of protein bars for two weeks." Ryuga was counting this off on his fingers. "Taking midnight showers after I was fast asleep-"

"_Okay_," he interrupted, his voice as sharp as a nail. "But I wasn't afraid of _you_."

"Of what, then?"

"Of being...gay."

Ryuga rested his chin on top of Kyoya's head. "Oh," was all he said.

Kyoya started tumbling over his own words to try to correct himself, because he wasn't sure if that had come out right. "I'm not afraid of _gay people_—I'm not homophobic—and I don't mind them at all, it's just I was afraid of being gay myself, because...what would people say or do if they found out, and-"

"_Kyoya_," Ryuga said over a chuckle, kissing the top of his head to shut him up. "It's okay. It's understandable."

"It is?"

"Sure. Sadly, society makes it seem that it's wrong to be gay. And it's not. It's not like you can chose to be gay, it just happens naturally. And because of how society treats homosexuals and how big of a deal they make it seem, it seems logical to be afraid of it. But there's nothing to be afraid of. It's just your sexuality, it's not a sin."

Kyoya'd never heard him make such a lengthy speech like that before. Kyoya deliberated it over in his head; he realized that Ryuga had a great point. A part of him relaxed more and he sunk deeper into him gratefully. "So," he said, "when did you realize you were a fruit?"

Ryuga laughed into Kyoya's hair. "_Me_? Well..." He seemed hesitant, and he squeezed Kyoya's middle tighter. "You remember Renji, right?"

He sniffed distastefully. "Yeah."

"He was...an eager bastard."

Kyoya puzzled over this for a moment, not fully understanding it until it hit him right between the eyes. "_Wait_," he gasped, sitting taller. "Wait, you mean _Renji_-"

"Yup," Ryuga said. Kyoya could hear the smile in his voice. "I never had any romantic feelings for that prick whatsoever. But...he got me thinking. And I started noticing."

"Oh."

Ryuga nudged him with a knee. "What about you, huh?"

"Me? Um...I just noticed I wasn't attracted to females. At all." He shrugged. "I tried to be. It never worked."

There was a brief intermission as the show came back on. Kyoya fidgeted, a question still anxiously poking at the back corner of his mind. He turned towards him, their noses brushing. "Ryuga."

"Hmm?"

"Why do you...why do you like me?"

Ryuga kissed the tip of his nose. "Are you still wondering about that?"

"A lot. I just don't see what's so..." he fumbled for a dramatic word, and found one. "..._enticing_ about me."

"You're extremely enticing," Ryuga argued, now kissing his jaw. "For one, I like the fact that you're able to hold your own. You're strong and tough. Secondly, you're not as dramatic or as childish as some other people I know,"—and Kyoya knew exactly who _other people_ was—"and it's nice to have a real conversation with someone. Thirdly, you don't smile 100% of the time, but when you do it's special. You have a beautiful smile," he added when Kyoya snorted. "Fourthly, you keep surprising me. I thought I knew you, and then you throw me for a loop and make me wonder all over again. Like when we were singing in the car." Kyoya smiled at the memory, so distant now. "Fifthly—"

"This is an awfully long list."

"_Fifthly_, I feel like I can be myself around you. I'm comfortable around you. I don't have to act so egotistical."

"You mean that's an act?" Kyoya jabbed playfully.

"There's a reason. Sixthly, although definitely not lastly…" He pulled his lips up closely to Kyoya's ear, so when he talked his breath tickled the sensitive tissue of the lobe. "You're so beautiful it breaks my heart."

If Ryuga kept saying stuff like that, Kyoya's cheeks would flush red forever. He giggled nervously. "It almost sounds like you're in love with me."

"Maybe I am," Ryuga agreed.

Kyoya's heart sputtered. What had he just said? Could he say it _back_?

He didn't get a chance to, if he could. Ryuga tilted his chin up with one finger and kissed him softly on the mouth. No tongue; just tender and sweet, the kind that gives your heart a kick without sending it into overdrive. He was kissed a second time. "Now," Ryuga said, "are you hungry? It's getting late. Do you feel like cooking tonight?"

"No," Kyoya said with a frown.

"Good, because I sure as fuck don't either. Let's go out to eat," he suggested.

"Where?" he asked as Ryuga stripped himself out of their bundle, cracking his neck from sitting so long.

"Hm. How about Ruby Tuesday? My treat."

"You really don't have to…"

Ryuga pecked him on the forehead. "I insist."

/.../

"Here you are," their waitress, whose nametag said she was Alexis, said cheerfully as she set down matching Spicy Jalapeño Pretzel Bun burgers, complete with a mountain of fries. They offered their thanks and she nodded, shuffling along to the next table.

Kyoya picked up his hamburger with both hands, watching the ketchup ooze off of the patty. He took a big bite. It was mouth-wateringly delicious. "You come here often?" he asked after he'd swallowed.

Ryuga nodded, sipping his cola. "It's one of my favorite restaurants. I come every month or so."

"You really don't have to treat me like this. I can pay my own tab." That is if he scraped together all of the quarters that fell between his couch cushions. But he was still concerned about Ryuga's income.

"Kyoya, it's _fine_," he assured. Kyoya felt something warm on his knee-Ryuga's hand. He panicked a little. What if someone saw? Did he even _care_? It dawned on him that he probably didn't. After all...there's nothing to be scared of, right? _It's just your sexuality, it's not a sin..._Ryuga's voice echoed. He relaxed a little into the cushiony booth, then reached under the table and clenched Ryuga's fingers around his, and they shared a secret smile.

"Kyoya? _Ryuga_?"

Kyoya jumped a foot in the air, and their hands flew away from each other like they'd been burnt. "_Ginga_?" he growled.

The fiery red-head could not be mistaken. He was gawking at them in astonishment, a toothy smile stretching ear-to-ear like a crescent moon. If he noticed anything abnormal, he didn't show it. "What're you guys doing here?" he asked, his voice as cheery as a Christmas carol. Kyoya saw Masamune peek out from behind him, and then another face, one with big brown eyes and a head of lime-green hair. Kenta.

"Eating dinner," Ryuga deadpanned, driving his fork straight through his burger in annoyance. Kyoya flinched and looked up at Ryuga curiously, and he gazed back with heated golden eyes. He could tell that he didn't want to be disturbed, and it warmed the cackles of Kyoya's heart that Ryuga cared so much about impressing him. He coughed to hide a smile that broke across his face.

"Mind if we join you?" Masamune asked.

"Well-" Kyoya started to object, but Ginga was already sliding in next to him. Kenta took Ryuga's right, and Masamune pulled up a chair from an empty table nearby. "Suit yourself," he muttered.

Kenta peeked up at Ryuga warily, and said man cracked one eye open and glared viciously with a nasty scowl in his direction. Kenta shrunk lower in his seat.

"So you guys are just eating together? Why?" Masamune asked, just bursting with questions, manifestly. He propped his elbows up on the table and reached for one of the biscuits that had been delivered out of courtesy when they'd arrived.

Ryuga huffed, reminding Kyoya ironically of a dragon. "He's my guest. I'm treating him to dinner." He seemed to be desperately trying to control his temper.

"Your _guest_?" Ginga repeated, glancing over at Kyoya for an explanation.

"My apartment building needs rewiring, so I'm staying with him for a few months."

"Oh." Ginga nodded, satisfied with the answer, and popped one of Kyoya's fries into his mouth. Kyoya jammed his fist into his shoulder in warning.

Alexis strolled by then and noticed the three extra members of the party. "You boys just walk in?" she asked with a noticeable drawl in her voice. She snapped her gum, hinting that she didn't have all day.

When they'd focused the attention on her, Ryuga and Kyoya looked at each other. Ryuga's expression resembled that of actual physical pain. "_How do we get out of this_?" he mouthed.

Kyoya shrugged sympathetically. As sly as he could, he slid his hand under the table and found Ryuga's resting on his knee, and locked their pinkies together, a gesture he'd grown found of. It seemed to comfort Ryuga a little. His shoulders relaxed, anyway.

Ginga launched into stories about his dad and his new step-mom like they were old chums. "Fae's really nice, even if she's not my mom. She's a photographer, you know. Thanks," he said to Alexis as she swooped in, delivered their drinks, and exited in a blink of an eye. "She takes pictures of all kinds of stuff. She told me she was thinking about doing a shoot dedicated to Beyblade, maybe sometime in the spring. She wants any bladers I know to be in it, including you, Ryuga."

"Including me, huh." He took a long slurp of his soda, occupied with the faded lights outside of their window.

"Yeah."

Ryuga sighed. "I'll think about it."

Kenta piped in for the first time that evening. "So, what've you guys been up to? Have you been doing stuff together, like battling?"

Kyoya nodded and over a mouthful of burger said, "We train every now and then."

"Oi." Ryuga banged his knee against Kenta's hip and almost sent him plunging into the tabletop. "Move it, I gotta use the restroom."

Kyoya could tell he just wanted to get away from them. But Kenta shifted out of the way and Ryuga slipped out. Masamune jumped from his seat after him. "Wait, I'll come with you!"

"No! What the hell is wrong with you?" he heard Ryuga roar as they dived into the bustling crowd. Kyoya snickered and nibbled on the corner of his fry absently.

"Hey, Kyoya." Ginga turned his body towards him, his jagged eyebrows drawn over his deep ocher eyes. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Snazzy, why do you ask?"

"You're really quiet, even for you. And you keep staring out the window."

He shrugged and didn't respond, picking at his burger with little interest. He pushed his plate towards him. "Here. I'm not hungry anymore."

"REALLY?" Ginga beamed and snatched the burger up greedily. "Thanks, Kyoya! Here, Kenta, have some fries!"

"Sweet!" Kenta answered by shoveling a handful into his gaping jaws, spilling grease all over his mouth.

Kyoya grunted and turned away. He truly had lost his appetite. He might be able to tolerate these guys solo, but he admittedly wanted to spend a night out with Ryuga alone. He watched ruefully as Ginga and Kenta indulged what was supposed to be his dinner, and sighed to himself.

/.../

"That was really unnecessary, Ryuga."

"They were the ones who barged in uninvited," he argued.

"Yes. But did you really need to dump that pasta on Masamune like that?"

"Of course," he said with a wicked grin. Kyoya smirked, playing along.

"What did he say, anyway? I didn't hear."

"He asked me why I wear a tiara."

Kyoya's lips bled from how hard he was biting them. He covered his mouth to hide his smile. "Oh really," he chuckled.

"It's not a tiara! It's a _headband_! What part of 'Dragon Emperor' doesn't get through their thick skulls?" He threw his hands up into the air for emphasis, and the car swerved into the other lane. He immediately replaced his grip on the steering wheel.

"There, there." Kyoya patted his arm with mock sympathy.

Ryuga slipped one hand off of the wheel and caught Kyoya's, lacing their fingers together and resting the bundle in-between them. "And I _was_ pretty upset. They ruined our dinner date."

"It's okay," he reassured. "Thanks to you it'll probably never happen again."

"Touché," he agreed as he turned into the driveway.

They climbed out and headed inside the house. Leone greeted them at the door, firing distressed _meows_ like rounds from a machine gun. Kyoya paused to scratch his ears while Ryuga tossed his keys on the counter.

"It's really late..." he murmured as he glanced out the windows, painted black by the night. "Are you going to bed?"

"Yeah," Kyoya replied. "I'm beat."

He followed him up the stairs and began to head down the hall to the guest room, like always, when Ryuga caught his wrist and led him back to him. He didn't say anything for a moment, just admired Kyoya, taking in every shape of his body. "Why don't you sleep in my room tonight?"

"With you?"

"Who else?" He raised an eyebrow, like he was curious as to why it would be any other way.

Kyoya leaned in and kissed him, something he hadn't done all evening thanks to bad company. His lips crept slowly across the face of his mouth to his jaw line, and then paused at his ear. He didn't understand these urges that he felt inside. They were stronger than butterflies, a feeling better than euphoria. _What is this_? he wondered, as he let Ryuga lead him through the arch of the doorway, their fingers interlocked.

_Is this love_?

**A/N: Thanks for reading guys! :3**

** Oh, also: I came up with this really epic concept for an AU Adventure Time fanfic last night o7o/ Gumlee, of course. I'm really stoked about it, and can't wait to get writing it :3**

** Thanks again! I'm pretty sure this next chapter you will enjoy very much -w- Oh yes.**


	9. Chapter 9: First Dance

** A/N: Hey guys! :D Here I am, with the chapter you have all been waiting for...*drum roll* That's right...the smut * 3***

** This is the first time I have **_**ever**_** completed a sex scene...so I'm a little nervous. But, fire away, right? :U**

** And I know I say this a lot, but thank you guys so, **_**so**_** much for reviewing, following, faving, etc. It means a whole hell of a lot to me :'3**

** Now, let's be done with this pointless rambling. Go enjoy your steamy smut -w- *pushes you forward***

** Chapter 9: **First Dance

_"Stop squirming, Tategami," he hissed, sealed with a blow to the gut._

_ Kyoya cried out, but it was killed when an icy hand smacked over his mouth. "Get off of me! Leave me alone!" he tried to scream, but it came out as an unhelpful gurgle against the sweaty palm. He wadded up a mouthful of saliva and spit it, causing the boy to recoil in disgust. Kyoya saw his chance and scrambled to his feet, leaping for the door. His friend was faster, though, and pounced on him, dragging him back to the dark and moldy corner of the closet._

_ While his partner held Kyoya down, the boy dug around in his pocket until he produced a pair of scissors. These weren't the cheap plastic safety-scissors that were in the supply bins for projects; these were the fancy teacher-like scissors, twice as big, twice as sharp. He must've swiped them from one of their drawers._

_ "C'mon, Tategami," he cooed, a twisted smile on his face, reminding Kyoya of a ravished wolf. "Let's cut off all of that _beautiful_ hair of yours."_

No,_ he tried to scream as the boy grew closer, flipping the blade over in his hands. He leaned on Kyoya's knees, his legs shrieking in pain as they were forced to twist in an unnatural position. He opened the scissors. _No. No. NO!

_ Kyoya ripped one leg free and with sudden adrenaline lashed the boy where it counts. The boy howled in pain, the scissors slipping from his grasp as he doubled-over, cursing like a sailor. It'd brought him some time, but not enough. The other boy still had a vice-tight grip around him and didn't budge an inch._

_ "YOU FUCKING FREAK!" The boy roared, snatching the scissors. His wrath had taken over him, and he wasn't going to tease anymore. He was done playing. He raised the scissors like a knife and slashed Kyoya underneath the eye._

_ Kyoya screamed at the horrendous pain, and thrashed his body every which way to try and escape. He felt the blood surface and glide down his cheek, like the tears that were forming in his eyes._

_ The boy seemed to like the reaction Kyoya gave, because he continued to chop at him like he was fresh meat. He sheared another gruesome gash, this one horizontal, underneath that same eye, then matched it with the other side._

_ Kyoya screamed and yelled and sobbed into the hand, jerking his body to try and rip free. _It hurts it hurts it hurts why is this happening why isn't anyone hearing me why is no one helping me why me why me why why **whywhywhy**.

_Finally, the hand fell from his mouth, and he was thrust into the crook of the corner, the impact of the cement on his skin like a wrestler body-slamming his opponent. He held himself up by his arms, trembling though they were, and puked a fountain of blood. There was a sharp _clank_._

_ "How's that feel, you fucking faggot?!" the boy demanded, and for good measures kicked his jaw, snapping Kyoya's head back so it collided with the wall. He felt a waterfall of blood start to trickle down his back, stemming from the back of his skull. "You better think twice before you try that again. Who do you think you are, anyway?! You're just a fucking piece of shit, that's all. You're better off dead." He sent another blow to Kyoya's gut, then rounded his henchman and vacated the closet, slamming the door behind him._

_ Kyoya clutched his mouth, terrified he was going to puke another avalanche of blood. His cheeks were on fire and sticky from the blood smeared across them. Tears stung his eyes, the bottom of his stomach a pit of bubbling acid. He was so ashamed of himself. He knew there was no way in hell he could go back out there and face the school day now. Not when he looked like he'd been mauled by a bear._

_ He scooted as far back into the shadows as he could, wanting so desperately to hide from his own mortification. He scrunched his hands firmly on his clothes, trying to get them to stop shaking. It left streaks of blood on his uniform pants, his dress shirt already an abstract work of red. He laid his head on his knees, sobs racking his body._

_**I hate myself...**_

/.../

Kyoya awoke with a wild gasp, his eyes snapping open like trap doors. _Holy shit_, he thought. He closed his eyes and attempted to slow his heart, which was beating as fast as a galloping race horse. Breathing deeply, he sat up in bed and wound his fingers through the strands of his hair. _What the hell triggered _that_ memory?_

He hadn't thought about that day for a long time; he tried his best not to. He traced the grotesque, rugged scars with his index finger, and then winced from emotional pain. He curled his knees up to his chest and rested his elbows on top, deep in thought. _After that everyone thought I was suicidal..._he recalled the rumors spread about it, how they whispered that his wrists hadn't become enough anymore. His hands clenched into fists, and his knuckles popped. He flexed his fingers.

He peeked down at a dozing Ryuga, lying on his stomach with his cheek resting on the pillow. He was breathing steadily, his dreams visibly peaceful and not full of scissors and blood. His heart clenched. Ryuga always looked like an angel when he slept, the tightness in his face vanishing while he slumbered on. Kyoya shimmied down; taking care to not be too rough or he might wake him. Gently, he kissed the skin near Ryuga's eye, his lips barely whispering across his temple.

Ryuga's eyes fluttered, then cracked open. "Hey," he murmured hoarsely, and noticing the distraught look on Kyoya's face, came to attention immediately. "What's wrong?"

Kyoya bit his lip. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"I was already half awake. What's wrong?" He yawned, letting Kyoya catch a sight at his incisors.

Kyoya watched the pillows. "Nothing, it doesn't matter."

"Kyoya, I'm not going to buy that." Ryuga hoisted himself up and rolled over onto his back, then patted his chest. "Get over here."

Kyoya sighed and edged over, resting his cheek near Ryuga's heart and letting the steady drumbeat calm him. Ryuga's hand rubbed between his shoulderblades while he waited patiently for Kyoya to speak. "I had a nightmare," he admitted.

"What about?"

Kyoya drummed his fingers on Ryuga's stomach, hidden by the soft fabric of his t-shirt. "It wasn't really a nightmare...," he explained. "It was more like...like a flashback."

"A flashback?" Ryuga repeated, pausing his motions to try and understand this.

"It was the eighth grade...when these two boys stuffed me in a closet and..." he shivered, the recall of the incident turning it far too vivid in his memory for his taste. "They attacked me."

He felt Ryuga's hand clench into a fist. "They did _what_?"

"With a pair of scissors," he whispered, as if this were to help.

"Fuck," Ryuga growled. "I remember you saying that."

"I had to stay in there until school let out…and take the late bus home…," The words were spilling out of his mouth like a waterfall, now that he'd gotten as far as confessing the truth. "When my mom saw me, she was hysterical. She threatened to call 911, but I wouldn't let her."

"Why?" Ryuga exclaimed. "Why would you let those fucking shits get away with what they did to you?"

Kyoya slowly crept up, propping his elbows on Ryuga's chest. His head turned slowly towards him, and he shrugged half-heartedly. "Imagine," he said, "the tormenting I would get for ratting them out. No one likes a tattletale."

Ryuga sighed and flopped back into the valley of the pillows. "Kyoya…sometimes it's important to speak up," he said. He toyed with one of Kyoya's green locks. "You should've told someone."

Kyoya slinked upwards, bringing his legs up so he was straddling Ryuga's lap. He cupped Ryuga's cheeks and brought his head down, just enough so he could feel his soft breathing. "I never trusted anyone," he whispered, "as much as I trust you."

With that, he kissed him, their lips dancing a waltz so elegant it took his breath away. He could do this forever; their tongues achingly slow against each other's, taking the time to appreciate the flavor that only they would know: it tasted like coffee, and with the freshness of mint. The smell made Kyoya's heart light up like a beam.

Ryuga pulled away just an inch, bumping his nose against his and staring into Kyoya's soul with his blazing golden eyes. "Good morning to you too," he chuckled.

/.../

"So," Kyoya said, smacking his lips. "What're we doing today?"

_Plunk_. Kyoya whipped around, startled, and his eyes fell on a roll of cookie dough that Ryuga had dropped on the counter. "Baking cookies," he announced, like this was a normal everyday kind of thing.

He stared at it. "What?"

"We're going to be baking cookies," he repeated. He slinked over to him and slipped his thumbs through the belt loops of Kyoya's pants, ushering him close. His topaz eyes shimmered mysteriously, and Kyoya wondered what he had in store…

"Why?"

"Don't you like sugar cookies?"

"Yes…"

"Then there's your reason," he stated matter-of-factly. His lips brushed the side of his forehead. "C'mon." He whispered it gently, like a lullaby.

Kyoya nodded, and they headed into the kitchen. He ripped a glob of dough from the roll and proceeded to shape it into a ball.

"Here's the fun part," Ryuga hinted. He lifted up his own wad and slammed it onto the counter. It flattened like a deflated basketball.

Kyoya laughed. "I'm pretty sure that that's not how you're supposed to do it…"

"Don't argue my genius."

Kyoya looked down at the ball of dough in his hands, then smacked it onto the counter. Ryuga smirked in satisfactory.

They continued making their disaster of a sugar cookie in peaceful silence, the tray vandalized with lumpy clumps of cookie dough, each one melting into another. It was mindless work; they lost themselves in their procedures and forgot what they were doing at times. Kyoya had never baked before, he'd only watched it on the Food Network one or twice, but it was kind of enjoyable when you were with someone.

"Kyoya." Ryuga jarred him back to reality, making him lose his concentration on the cookie he was molding. He turned his head curiously. Ryuga had a small piece of dough in his fingers and was holding it up at chin-level. "Open up," he commanded.

Kyoya smirked, not sure how game he was on being spoon-fed like a baby. But Ryuga was persistent, and pushed it against Kyoya's lips. Kyoya, having no choice, popped his mouth open a fraction and pierced the mound with his canine teeth. It was intensely sweet and sugary and left the kind of aftertaste that made you addicted—you _had_ to have another bite. Ryuga watched him swallow. "Happy now?" he asked.

"Very much, yes," he agreed. _Smack!_ Another ball abused on the countertop.

Kyoya felt a surge of mischief swell through him, and his eyes caught on a jar to his right. He lifted the lid and peeked in—flour. Making sure Ryuga's back was turned, he snatched the jar and dumped the contents on his head.

Ryuga bristled. Slowly he turned around, the white substance shedding off of his skin. It was in his already powder-white hair, on his face, his clothes, and his person. He curled his bottom lip inward, examining Kyoya's work, and brushed some off of his forearm. "It's. _ON_," he breathed.

Kyoya pressed his lips together nervously. _Oh…shit_, he thought. He took off like a plane towards the living room just as Ryuga stole another jug of something off the counter and booked after him. Kyoya was almost to the stairs when his foot got tangled with something—and judging by that screech, it was most likely Leone—and fell flat on his face, giving Ryuga the advantage. Kyoya cried out when something sticky drenched him. Sugar.

Ryuga beamed superiorly, holding the empty jar like a trophy and grinning devilishly down at a flustered Kyoya. Kyoya smirked and leapt to his feet, sailing into the kitchen for more ammo.

"Get back here!" Ryuga yelled. Kyoya did, but he had something in tow: an open carton of eggs. Ryuga stepped back. "Whoa, whoa, wait a sec…"

Kyoya fiddled with it like it was a baseball. "_Run_."

Ryuga didn't need to be told twice. He flew like an eagle (A/N: XD) in the opposite direction as Kyoya pelted him with eggs, yolk getting everywhere and bruising the pure-white walls. Kyoya caught up to him near the sofa and tackled him, sending them soaring over the back of the couch. They wrestled for a bit, and eventually Ryuga had him pinned, and no matter how hard Kyoya squirmed, Ryuga was too strong. They caught each other's eyes for a blink of a moment, and they stopped struggling, breaking out into fits of laughter instead.

"Truce," Ryuga gasped, his chest still heaving from the exercise.

"Truce," Kyoya echoed, just as worn. He giggled. "You have flour in your hair."

He shook it out, sending puffs of white clouds to the floor. "And you're coated with sugar," he said, raising his free hand up to brush a trail of the crystals from Kyoya's cheek. He left his finger there, trailing over Kyoya's face, his jaw, his nose, and his morbid scars. The cycle felt so good, Kyoya closed his eyes, tilting his head into Ryuga's palm. His mouth parted in contentment.

When Ryuga stopped, he peered up with half-opened lids to see what was wrong. Ryuga was gazing down at him with a look he'd never seen before, but was far too sincere for their excitement from before. He cupped Kyoya's chin in his hand and brought his lips down to meet his. Kyoya let him in immediately, not resisting, not contemplating.

Ryuga released his grip on Kyoya's wrist, allowing Kyoya to wind his arms around his middle. Ryuga was kissing harder than usual. More passionate, maybe a little needy. Every inch of the inside of Kyoya's mouth was being explored, and Kyoya gobbled up every minute of it, extracting the lingering flour from his lips.

Ryuga's hands slid downwards, and he slipped one up Kyoya's shredded shirt, rubbing tenderly across his stomach. Kyoya inhaled a gasp, a shiver rippling down to his toes. Ryuga paused, seeming to be startled by Kyoya's reaction. "Sensitive?" he said in a hushed undertone, every consonant tickling Kyoya's lips.

"Don't stop," he rasped. "Please."

Ryuga's hands fell even further south, brushing against the front of Kyoya's pants. Kyoya hissed softly, his toes curling inward. He was so riled up, every touch felt like an electric shock coursing through his veins, his nerves on high alert. He'd never been touched like this, not even by himself. It was a completely new chapter; a chapter he _definitely_ didn't want to end.

He felt Ryuga tug upward on his shirt, and lifted his arms up eagerly, only after it was off cringing at the realization that his chest was completely painted with scars, all up and down his chest, arms, and back. Ryuga didn't seem to be bothered by it, instead tracing them with a curious finger. By the look in his eyes, you would've thought Kyoya was an undiscovered Picasso; a rare treasure found by a curious explorer, or the rain after an endless drought. Kyoya reached up hesitantly, and even though he didn't need it, helped him with the buttons on his shirt.

Ryuga shimmied out of it, raising it over his head and tossing it next to them, never breaking away from his gaze. Kyoya's eyes wandered over Ryuga's torso. He was a work of art, his body though slender, chiseled and smooth. He had a light trail of hair that started at his navel and trailed south, but other than that was perfectly supple. He reached up and slid his fingertips up his arms, their matching body heat blazing underneath his touch. "You're so beautiful," he whispered enviously.

"_You_ are," Ryuga argued, his voice never breaking above a murmur. He knew Kyoya would protest and stopped him with a kiss. "Every broken," _kiss_, "beaten," _kiss_, "shattered," _kiss,_ "and torn piece of you."

He was pretty sure, when Ryuga's eyelashes brushed like butterfly wings against his that he could feel the tears seeping from underneath Kyoya's lids.

/.../

Ryuga carried him up to the bedroom and laid him across the comforter, then crawled on top of him again. His lips trailed over Kyoya's naked chest, stopping at his pecks and lapping at them, causing Kyoya to twitch and writhe. He raked his fingers up his back and braided his fingers through his white locks, guiding him. While his tongue played with one, Ryuga's fingers rubbed the other gently. Kyoya tried to hold back a moan, because he didn't want Ryuga see him melt like putty, even though he was scorching hot already. His pride was at stake. Still, it backfired and the moan came out embarrassingly like a needy whine.

Ryuga shifted when he heard this and tucked his forehead against his. "Kyoya," he breathed, "are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," Kyoya gasped. "It's just...well..."

Ryuga's eyes grew rounder, and he propped himself up on his hands so their chests were no longer touching. "Wait a second," he said. "Are you a virgin?"

He frowned. "And you're not?"

Evidently this was not a good question to ask, because something dark fell over Ryuga's face, like a storm cloud over the sun at high noon. He crawled back so he was sitting on Kyoya's legs, on his knees. Kyoya felt a flare of panic spark inside of him, worried that he'd completely destroyed this perfect moment they'd created, this bubble of intimacy and tenderness. Like when you're a kid and you're making a castle out of building blocks, and one wrong move and the whole thing crumbles down...

"Ryuga?" he asked meekly. "Did I...did I say something wrong?"

Ryuga's chest heaved as he sighed heavily, winding his fingers through his own hair and knotting it into a fist. Then he returned to Kyoya, tangling their legs together and connecting their chests. He began to brush Kyoya's bangs away from his face, and Kyoya noted how he did that a lot during tense situations, like it relaxed him. It soothed Kyoya, too. "No, it's okay," he eventually said. "I don't want to talk about it, especially right now. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed. Of course he was curious, but the topic seemed to bother Ryuga so much, he let it drop.

Ryuga was still playing with his hair, but his other hand was brushing along Kyoya's neck and collarbone. It unraveled some knots in Kyoya's body, the tension easing into a dreamy buzz. He trailed his hands down Ryuga's back, hindering at the waist. "Hey, Ryuga."

"Hm?" He was still intently focused on Kyoya's hair.

"Do you want a blow job?"

It startled him. If it hadn't, he was sure he would have been able to control the palest shade of pink that spread across his cheeks. "What?"

"Do you?" he asked, his hands still following the slope of his back.

"Kyoya, you really don't have to..."

Kyoya smiled. "I insist," he echoed, and Ryuga smiled back, kissing the tip of his nose.

"Dork," he muttered. "But really...it's fine."

Kyoya knew better than that mouthful of bullshit. He could feel Ryuga's erection hardening against his leg, and that he was only saying that because he and Kyoya had a similar theme: their pride might slip. The Dragon Emperor didn't want anyone to see him completely undone, not even him. "Hm," he said, "then say that to your friend down there." As a challenge, he rubbed his knee between Ryuga's legs. He smirked when Ryuga hissed sharply, biting his lip to cut it short.

"_Don't do that_," he growled. "At least without a proper warning..."

"Oh really...it bothers you that much?" he teased, and returned to rubbing, this time harder. The friction caused Ryuga to squeeze his eyes shut, letting a groan slip. _One point for me,_ he thought triumphantly.

"_Stop that_," he hissed.

"Make me."

He thought too late, maybe he shouldn't have said that. But it was out, and Ryuga was never the one to back down from a challenge. Neither of them were; they were far too competitive. So naturally, Ryuga smirked wickedly and buried his face in Kyoya's neck. He nibbled at the nape of his throat, little electric shocks that made Kyoya's fists clench. He let out a wild gasp when Ryuga started to grind his hips against his. "R-Ryuga..."

"Kyoya," he growled back, shifting his lips up to Kyoya's mouth, swallowing his next statement, which was only "_God. God. GOD._" He grappled at Ryuga's back, leaving streaks of inflamed red skin behind him. He guided Ryuga across his body, letting the intensely pleasurable feeling in the pit of his stomach grow as he lost himself in him; the taste of his lips, still hinted with flour, the smell of him, which was the smell after it rains with the faintest stain of coffee, the pulse of him, which pounded in sync with his own racing heart. He was drowning blissfully in all that was him, each wave of Ryuga's breath sinking him deeper. He bucked his hips up to meet Ryuga's, earning his reward: a muffled moan of delight against his lips, the vibrations tingling like electricity.

Ryuga pulled away abruptly. They were both panting like famished dogs, a tangled mess of sweaty bodies. Eventually, Ryuga slid his eyes open, those golden pools ignited with desire.

"Turn over," Kyoya demanded, his voice only a croak.

Ryuga didn't argue this time and slipped off of him, lying on his back while Kyoya adjusted himself on top of him. A little thrill went through him; he had control. He was the predator, and Ryuga was the helpless prey. He kissed his lips, then his jaw, his chin, his neck, his collarbone; a trail of kisses all the way to Ryuga's navel, where he paused to run his tongue across. Ryuga's back arched, and he felt him growl deep in his throat with irrepressible pleasure. Kyoya trailed down to the waistline of his black slacks, and straddled his hips with his hands as he bit the elastic with his teeth and gently tugged downwards, which seemed to please Ryuga, because as his teeth grazed his skin, he tensed up. Kyoya smirked to himself.

He felt a little unsure once he'd finally pulled his pants to his ankles and off, exposing Ryuga's black boxers. Black. Such a wonderful color, especially on him. Nestled in-between Ryuga's legs, he started rubbing his hand across the growing bulge, watching for Ryuga's reaction. His heart thumped a little harder when he saw Ryuga's teeth clench and his eyes shut, giving him the courage to move on. He bit the waistband and dragged them downwards.

His cheeks warmed at the sight of Ryuga's member, which was pulsing and rock-hard underneath his touch as he stroked the tip like he was waiting for something. Ryuga propped himself up on his hands and piped in, seeing Kyoya's nervousness. "Kyoya, you really don't-"

It turned into a strangled groan when Kyoya took the tip into his mouth, closing his eyes and focusing on the taste, the massage. He decided he was just going to dive in, ignore the nerves that flitted through his stomach and just roll with it. He licked across the tip, some lingering semen catching on his tongue. The taste wasn't as bad as he thought; it was actually quite delicious, in a sweet and salty kind of way. He slid his tongue across the base and to the tip and back again, earning him a choked-off moan from his recipient, which absolutely delighted him. He swallowed him deeper, taking half of the length in his mouth, and Ryuga's back arched into it, bucking his hips inward instinctively.

"Ky-Kyoya," he moaned, braiding his fingers through Kyoya's hair to hold him steady, brushing the strands of hair in his face out of the way so he could see better. Kyoya was going to make him regret doing that. Smiling mischievously and gaining confidence, he slid the entire length into his mouth, with some strain, but eventually it fit. He felt Ryuga tremor—a long, luscious moan escaping from his lips. He could tell Ryuga was trying to hold back; he was too proud to completely unravel. Kyoya set out to force him to moan, to whine and beg for him to stop. He massaged harder, his lips smothering the length while his free hand slid up and over, rubbing his abdomen to torture him with more obscene pleasure. He felt like cheering when Ryuga finally let out a garroted gasp of bliss.

"Ky-Kyoya, st-stop...not so—" His protests drowned beneath a tsunami of shivers, causing him to lose his breath. "Stop..."

Kyoya cracked his eyes open, removing the cavern of his mouth from Ryuga's member and wiping semen from his lips. Ryuga's eyes, also scrunched tight, flickered open. "You stopped," he said, sounding both puzzled and completely out of breath.

"You told me to," Kyoya replied pointedly.

Ryuga managed a woozy smile, his eyebrows slanted upwards in an arch. "You sure you're a virgin?"

Kyoya couldn't help but beam. "I got you to moan," he crowed.

Ryuga snorted. "Right." In a flash, he tackled Kyoya and tossed him into the pillows. "Now it's _your turn_," he announced. He kissed him underneath the chin and then raised his three middle fingers to Kyoya's lips. "Suck."

Kyoya smiled seductively and did as told, making a big show of sucking, acting as if it was a lollipop. Ryuga drew his fingers back when he saw him getting a little too excited and slunk backwards, in-between Kyoya's legs. Slowly he stripped him of his trousers, then his gray boxers. Kyoya tensed as a bitter cold chill swept over his legs, then ultimately became mortified because he realized he was completely exposed to someone. But he forced himself to relax; he trusted this person more than anyone in the world. His insecurities were making it hard for him to brace for the incoming pain.

Despite his previous bravado, Ryuga still cautioned him, "If it hurts, tell me, okay?" Kyoya nodded, and Ryuga slipped a finger inside of him.

He hissed in a breath, the unfamiliar feeling of being probed catching him off guard. It barely stung, but his breath caught when he felt Ryuga insert a second finger in one sweep, and the stinging went from a mild burn to a bee-sting feeling. Ryuga could sense Kyoya's raggedness and towered over him, gently nipping at his lips to comfort him. Kyoya, considering himself officially distracted, wound his arms nimbly around his neck, on autopilot. He trembled, his fingers clenching into fists in Ryuga's hair when he was scissored, having to break their lips apart to intake a breath that he so desperately needed. Their bodies were fastened together so closely, every time they fidgeted the littlest of friction sent a rush of blood circulating south. Ryuga slipped in his third finger, not letting his grip slacken on him even when Kyoya started, moaning when Ryuga continued to thrust his fingers in a miraculous rhythm in and out of him. The burning was soothing, turning into pieces of pleasure with each dive.

With Kyoya fully stretched, Ryuga removed his fingers completely, and Kyoya whimpered from the emptiness without intending to, his aroused desires overtaking his mind. "Dammit Ryuga," he whispered hoarsely, "just...just take me already..."

Ryuga was all too happy to oblige. He kissed Kyoya's swollen lips again before slipping off of him, off of the bed, to the dresser that resided next to it. He took a small package out of the drawer and ripped it open with his teeth. Kyoya mustered enough strength to prop himself up on his elbows, watching him in utter disbelief. When the fuck did he get _condoms_? He was about to ask him this, but then Ryuga returned onto the bed, having it already slipped on and ready to go. He tugged Kyoya's body forward, and Kyoya wrapped his legs around Ryuga's waist, his nerves jumping around in his stomach.

"Babe," Ryuga whispered, causing Kyoya to breath sharply. Ryuga never called him _babe_. "Are you sure you want to do this? We can wait, if you're not ready..."

Kyoya reached up and seized bits of Ryuga's hair, yanking him downwards so their noses bumped together. He kissed him as determinedly as possible; a message without words. He knew he was nervous, and he knew he had reason to be. But he was as ready as he'll ever be, and he felt an outlandish desire for Ryuga...for his body; he wanted to be completely captivated by every inch of him. He wanted to be Ryuga's, to give away his body to him and have it be his forever. He almost felt like he wasn't even alive, the feeling was so overwhelming to him, lodged into his throat. And finally, he knew exactly what it was.

Ryuga broke away, brushing his hand across Kyoya's cheek. He adjusted himself to make sure he was in a more comfortable position, and slowly pushed inside.

"Ah-! F-fuck," was the first thing that came out of Kyoya's mouth. The pain was as hot as a brand and shot throughout his body. He lost feeling in his legs, and thanked his lucky stars that Ryuga was holding onto them. "Oh..."

"Jesus fucking _Christ_, Kyoya," Ryuga moaned. "You got so _tight_..." His eyes peered open—they were ruffled and hazy. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," he managed. "Just...move."

Ryuga nodded and slowly continued to push himself inside, to the very hilt of Kyoya. Kyoya's breath tremored as he felt all of him inside of his core, the pain at a blistering-hot war with a extraordinary rush of pleasure that came along with it. "Mmm...oh _God_," he moaned, clawing at the sheets, leaving punctures in the fabric.

Ryuga paused, taking in Kyoya and all of his flustered heat. Kyoya removed his hands from the tangle of sheets and grappled for Ryuga's hands, binding their fingers together. _Don't stop you idiot!_ he would've screamed, if he could talk normally. _Are you mad?!_ "Ryuga..." he whispered. "_Please_." He was so over the brink of second-guessing; his whole world was topsy-turvy just thinking about Ryuga's erection inside of him, pulsing against the walls of his rectum. His mind was a crumpled mess of lust, just looking up at the man towering over him. He didn't just _crave_ him; he _needed_ him.

Ryuga kissed his knuckles momentarily before resuming his pace, pounding into him with such vigor Kyoya thought it'd break him. He moaned instinctively, rolling his back with the flow of Ryuga's thrusts. He heard Ryuga gasp, and felt the body above him ripple with pleasure. The pain had eased away, and although still apparent, just a low buzz compared to the tsunami of insane, smoldering elation. Each thrust was experimental, and each one rooting a fresh reaction from Kyoya, writhing underneath Ryuga's glistening body.

"Mmm...oh fuck, Ryuga..._Ryuga_!" he screamed, all pride thrown out the window. How could he keep it intact with a feeling as heavenly as _this_? He was in a sanctum of nirvana, his mind a scrambled mess of euphoria. "_Yes_," he hissed when Ryuga had taken his moans as a blessing to hasten his pace. "Hng...there...ah...!"

Ryuga's prostate slammed against a bundle of nerves deep within Kyoya, who cried out in ecstasy, eyes snapping open as the pleasure exploded inside of him more intensely than ever before. His vision wiped to stark-white. "_FUCK_!" he exclaimed.

"Hm?" Ryuga panted, his breath hot and heavy against Kyoya's ear.

"Th-there! Agh...!" he moaned when Ryuga resumed his pace, testing for Kyoya's reaction. Kyoya's hands were wrung so tightly around Ryuga, he thought he'd leave indents. He loved the idea. "_Harder_!_ F-faster! _Hah..."

He didn't care if he sounded like such a little whore; he was erupting like a volcano from the swelling pleasure that cloaked over him. It was overwhelming and mind-fucking, the severe bliss that filled through him. If he closed his eyes, stars popped like firecrackers against his eyelids, leaving stains of white. It was enough to drive you completely mad. He entangled himself tighter around Ryuga, crying out his name like a chant. Ryuga began stroking Kyoya's member, which had been neglected until then, and Kyoya whimpered as a thrill swept down his spine. He arched his back into him to bring it closer, unable to control his noises of delight. He found Ryuga's lips and brought them closer to him, their lips dancing together as they both fell over the edge.

His stomach was tightening, his whole body in a blaze of sweaty heat. "Ryuga...g-going to..."

Ryuga was already ahead of him, his teeth grinded together as he lost it and came inside of Kyoya, who responded by crying his name as he released into Ryuga's hand, his vision white as he fell down from his high.

They didn't move for a moment, their chests heaving and their eyes round as they bored into each others. Kyoya'd never seen them so bright before. Eventually Kyoya had to speak, desperately inhaling air. "My ass...hurts like _fuck_..."

Ryuga chuckled and rolled out of him, flopping down beside him. He was smiling dopily, probably exhausted, yet in a state of dreary bliss all the same. Kyoya couldn't help but mirror him, laughing uncontrollably.

"Best sex _ever_," Ryuga proclaimed, shifting to his side to look at him and enveloping him in a long kiss that left Kyoya wanting more. But he felt his heart might give out if he had any more action right now and instead nestled into the pillows, snuggling into Ryuga as he wrapped his arms around him, secure as a cocoon. Blankets were thrown overtop of them, and they settled themselves to get cozy.

"Ryuga?" Kyoya whispered, tilting his head up so they were gazing into each other's eyes.

"Yes?"

Kyoya kissed him, tender and sweet, before resting his head on Ryuga's chest. He felt Ryuga's hand snake its way around him to hold him there, his hand resting on his hip. "I..." he murmured, "I love you."

He could feel Ryuga beaming down at him. He kissed Ryuga's hairline, and lingered his lips there. "I love you, too."

**A/N: *head-desk* I did it...whoot...**

** I'd like to formally thank the song "Dirty Vibe" by Skrillex (feat. Diplo, G-Dragon and CL) for motivating me throughout this chapter. I kept it on loop writing most of it XD The beat really pumped me up.**

** Hope you enjoyed! And again, I love you guys, thanks so much for reading my shit q wq/ If I don't reply to any of you, it's not because I'm a snob, I'm just kind of shy...but thank you! Really :3**

** A new face will appear next chapter, oh yes eue. Well, two :U**

** Cheers!**


	10. Chapter 10: A Fracture in the Glass

**A/N: Hey guys. I'm so happy you all enjoyed that last chapter -w-**

** I apologize in advance in case my updates get gradually slower. Things haven't been the best for me lately, and the anxiety makes it very difficult to write. But, I will try my hardest, I promise ;w; **

** Enjoy ;3**

** Chapter 10:** A Fracture in the Glass

Kyoya blinked his eyes open, beams of light filtering through the blinds and illuminating the room, which had dimmed with the fall of the morning. The bright LED numbers on the clock said it was a little after 3:00 pm. It was still the same day. After all, they'd barely gotten to mid-morning before they'd gotten sidetracked. He let his vision focus, then peered up at a still dozing Ryuga, who had him cuddled up like he was a teddy bear. He looked so peaceful when he slept, all tension drained from his features, snoring softly in Kyoya's ear. His lips were parted, as if in a peaceful dream.

He became aware of the furry lump resting between their legs on the blankets, curled into himself, the fluff rising and falling as he slumbered. Kyoya grinned and scratched him behind the ears. Leone awoke immediately, his peridot eyes glittering as Kyoya rubbed his chin. "Hello there, goofball," he whispered.

He carefully started to unwrap Ryuga's arms off of him, trying not to wake him. As he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, a flash of pain shot through his lower regions and he hissed. Fuck. He wasn't sure how he was going to walk today. He breathed deeply and continued moving, wincing at every shock that coursed through him.

He took a nice, long shower, scraping the dried cum from his skin and letting the hot water unwind the knots in his back. Clouds of mist cloaked the bathroom as he stepped out, humming to himself and wiping his bushy hair out with a towel. He paused beside the mirror and wiped the condensation away with his hand to catch a glimpse at himself, and almost laughed out loud. He looked like he'd gotten fucked, and fucked _hard_. There was a small purplish bruise on his neck that caught his attention. He smirked to himself, then stopped and pressed his fingers against the glass, looking deep into his own navy eyes like he was trying to find his soul. What did Ryuga _see_? He was as pasty as a ghost, his build although wiry, scrawny and completely gashed. He looked like he'd been hugged by Edward Scissorhands. And it wasn't like he was handsome; his eyes were a tedious shade of blue, and those scars were grisly. Whenever he looked at himself in the mirror, or the few times that he allowed his picture to be taken, he always saw a crumpled, jagged looking boy who was starving for potential. It's what everyone saw.

He drew away, polishing off his hair still and heading out of the bathroom. Yet, Ryuga still saw something in him. Something so faint inside of him that tricked the average person, and they looked away. Even he couldn't see it, it was buried so deep. Somehow Ryuga had known that he was worth more than everyone thought.

He headed into the guest bedroom for a fresh change of clothes, then headed down the steps and into the kitchen. He brewed a fresh pot of coffee for Ryuga and fixed himself a sandwich. While eating, he glanced at the countertops, still decorated with cookie dough. He smiled to himself, and after finishing his meal he started to clean up the mess.

_I owe it to him to buy groceries_, he thought, eyeing the carton of eggs thrown on the floor. He washed his hands, pulled a pad of paper and pen from a drawer and scribbled a note.

_**Went out. Be back soon. -Kyoya.**_ He frowned down at his untidy scrawl, then sighed, ripped it off the pad and placed it next to the coffee maker, along with a mug, where he knew he would find it. He snatched the car keys off of the counter and headed out into the brisk afternoon air.

Ryuga had long since established the "my car is your car" agreement, and Kyoya hadn't thought much of it until now-where would he _go_?-but now he was grateful for it as he settled into the driver's seat. Of course, he'd never owned a car in his life, and he'd taken his driver's test four times, but Ryuga didn't need to know that.

He wheeled out of the driveway, blasting the CD, singing along with Sonny the whole drive.

/.../

Walking into the store, he took a basket from the stack, brushed off the overly-cheerful greeter and headed towards the west wing of the store. He absently glanced at the items out on display, shoved in your face to try to tempt you to buy them. He had to be honest with himself, he didn't shop that much. He didn't cook much either, and he tried to avoid public situations as much as possible. So he really didn't know where he was going. But honestly, how hard would it be to find the dairy aisle, anyway?

While strolling through the store, searching for wherever the fuck the milk was, something captured his eye. He backtracked and peered down it curiously. It was an aisle obviously devoted to sex, full of racy lingerie and sex toys, lubricants and items supposedly to "increase performance", like it was a sport. He was astonished that it was so exposed, so out-on-display. They really should keep these kind of things private, like the porn in a video rental store. He slowly stepped into it, his eyes wandering over the items.

He passed by a section of lubricants and paused. There was bubblegum, mint, chocolate, and...was that seriously _pumpkin pie_? He picked it off its rack and examined it. Yes, it really was.

_I like pumpkin pie_. The thought catapulted across his mind so suddenly it startled him, a pale blush decorating his cheeks. He put it back as secretly as he could.

A little ways downward, he stopped to look at the vibrators. He picked one randomly off its rack and read the back, reading over the control settings. "_Damn_," he muttered to himself.

"Kyoya?"

He jumped a mile high, pivoting to see who had found him. He could feel his heart galloping in his chest. "_You_?"

Tsubasa leaned against his shopping cart, admiring their surroundings. "What are you doing in _this_ aisle?"

"I was...looking for the milk..." Kyoya threw out, tossing the toy in his hands into a clutter of miscellaneous items in a bin.

Tsubasa pointed over his shoulder, to the other side of the store. "It's that way."

"_So_?" he snapped, crossing his arms and trying desperately not to blush, and admittedly failing. "What are _you_ doing here?" he challenged.

Tsubasa gestured with his hand further north. "It's on my way to the electronics section..." he said.

Kyoya didn't know what to say next, and luckily he didn't have to. A voice chirped up from behind Tsubasa. "Tsubasa! C'mon, I found this awesome do-it-yourself ice-cream making machi-" he trailed off when he witnessed Kyoya. His already too-wide green eyes grew rounder. "Yo-Yo? What're you doing here?"

Kyoya gritted his teeth, a little nervous. He could tell the shit was hitting the fan. _Fast_.

"I didn't know you shopped here," Yu continued, not seeming to acknowledge anything. "What're you buying?"

"Yu," Tsubasa suddenly piped in. Kyoya watched as Tsubasa dug around in his pocket and produced a couple of five dollar bills. "Why don't you head down the street and get yourself a sundae? My treat."

Yu took the money like it was a no-homework pass. "Sweet! Thanks, Tsubasa!" he called over his shoulder as he bolted towards the front doors. He waved, and Tsubasa waved back.

"What did you do that..." but Kyoya lost his voice when Tsubasa joined him by his side, picking up the lone vibrator and placing it in Kyoya's basket, which was then accompanied by the pumpkin pie-flavored lubricant he'd been examining. "...for," he eventually whispered.

Tsubasa shrugged, throwing him a sympathetic smile. "I had a feeling that this conversation wasn't going to be appropriate for kids his age," he explained.

"You sound like a fucking move rating," Kyoya muttered, turning to follow him when he proceeded down the aisle. "Thanks," he eventually grunted.

"No problem. I wasn't aware you were sexually active."

He said it like it was the time of day. God, how could he be so mature? He was only a year or two older than him, tops. "Erm...yeah," Kyoya replied lamely, scratching the back of his neck.

"It doesn't matter to me," he continued on. By then, they were approaching the electronics. Tsubasa was heading towards the televisions. "I just wasn't aware."

For some reason, Kyoya continued to follow him. He wandered next to the cart, glancing at the bold, flashy price tags that were way through the roof. He watched Tsubasa examine each one, then examine the screens, each one playing some new Disney movie with a singing snowman. (A/N: I'LL GIVE YOU ONE GUESS.)

At one moment, Kyoya stretched his pace too wide, and the knife-sharp pain split him inside. He hissed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, waiting for the pain to stop throbbing and fade away. He cracked his eyes open when he remembered he was with someone, and felt horror spread like a plague through his stomach when he saw Tsubasa watching him, his eyebrows up and his mouth parted the slightest. Fuck. He'd seen that. Not only _seen_ it, but absorbed it, and made total sense of it. Tsubasa was too smart not to put it together.

But all he said was, "Oh," and he continued to look at the TV's. Kyoya could tell he was trying not to smile.

"Look—" he said immediately, ready to counter any teasing that was sure to come, but it didn't.

"Kyoya, don't," he cut in, peeking with one golden eye over at him. "There's nothing to argue about."

Kyoya blinked, surprised, then groaned, rubbing his hands over his eyes and tangling his fingers with his hair. He hung his head, his expression previously set in stone at a scowl melting into a grimace as he caved in. "Fine, it's true. I'm gay."

Tsubasa nodded, as if he already was aware of this. He most likely was. "What's interesting, though, is Ryuga..."

Kyoya snapped his head up, fingers still laced through his locks of green hair. His eyes widened. "You know—"

"It's obvious, Kyoya," he said. He moved to the next TV. "It's fairly obvious you're the recipient, which cancels out almost every male we know...almost. Thus, Ryuga would have to be your partner."

"It could be someone you don't know."

"The way _you_ make friends? Doubtful."

Kyoya opened his mouth to defend and retort, but closed it, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Yeah," he agreed with a sigh.

Tsubasa grinned, triumphant. "Thought so."

Kyoya observed him as he continued to scan the price tags, frowning at each one. "Why're you buying a TV, anyway?" he asked, seeing an opening to change the subject.

He sighed. "Yu busted our old one while bey training," he said. "That kid can really be a pain..."

"Oh yeah?" He fingered one tag and winced; the price was four digits. "Then why do you put up with him?"

Tsubasa smiled. "He's like my little brother," he explained, turning his body towards him. "And I love him, no matter what."

He then pulled himself away from the screens. "These prices are terrible, though," He ruffled his hair, which Kyoya noticed was falling freely, the tie absent. "Guess I'm going to have to look elsewhere." He tapped Kyoya's basket. "Can I make a suggestion?"

"Um…"

"They have lemon meringue flavored lubricant, too," he said. He smiled when Kyoya flushed red, then pushed his cart in the other direction, his long silver locks swishing behind him.

/.../

Kyoya pulled up to the house later, taking the bags out from the backseat and carrying them in. As he piled inside, he saw Ryuga sitting at the head of the dining room table, facing him with the mug he'd put out earlier, now full with a fresh cup of coffee. He'd slipped on a pair of rumpled gray sweatpants, shirt nonexistent, and his hair was unkempt. When he saw Kyoya, the corners of his mouth turned up in a closed-lip smile. "Hello there," he said, setting his mug down on the table. "You're back."

"Yeah," he replied, plopping the groceries in the corner and slipping off his coat, then his boots, returning the smile. He sauntered over, straddled himself on Ryuga's lap, and wrapped his legs around his and his arms around his neck. Ryuga smirked and tugged him closer, leading him into a kiss.

"So, how's your ass?" he remarked, kissing his cheek.

"Dealing," he answered, and adjusted himself. "Did you sleep well?"

Ryuga ran his finger over his back and tilted his head to the side. "Like a log," he said. His eyes flitted towards the arrangement of plastic bags, carelessly plopped down and left to rot. "What's in the bags?"

"Eggs...milk...flour...," he listed off, zeroing in on Ryuga's lips. "Toys..."

Ryuga raised his shaggy eyebrows. "Toys."

"Mm-hmm."

He heard the lightbulb click on in his head. "Oh. _Toys_," Ryuga repeated, smiling wickedly. "Anything for me?"

"The eggs," he replied, and Ryuga chuckled, kissing his nose, then his lips, wishing for entrance, and Kyoya granted it. He tilted his head to a steeper angle, enabling Ryuga to search deeper, sliding his tongue over his, mining the saliva from Kyoya's bottom lip. Caught up in the moment, Kyoya's hands slipped down his back, his thumbs latching on the waistband of Ryuga's sweatpants.

"Ah," Ryuga intervened, pulling back and removing Kyoya's hands from his waist. "None of that. Not until you're fully recovered."

Kyoya pouted. "But _Ryuga_..."

"We only woke up a few hours ago," he stated. "What, you want me to fuck you immobile?" He laughed when Kyoya beamed, obviously thinking this was a splendid idea.

"So, what do you want to do the rest of the day, then?" Kyoya asked, raising his eyebrows. "You wanna play board games? Monopoly? Fucking Crazy Eights?"

"How about...," Ryuga mused, pursing his lips in thought. "You read to me?"

Kyoya was so surprised, he laughed. "What?"

"Yeah. Read to me from one of those books you like."

"But...why?"

He shrugged. "So I can listen to your voice."

Kyoya smiled, his eyes lighting up. "Okay," he agreed, hopping off of hi and heading upstairs to the guest bedroom. Ryuga got up and followed behind.

Inside the bedroom, Kyoya crouched down and browsed through the bookshelf, his fingers lingering over the cracked, splintered spines. "This one is probably my favorite," he said to Ryuga, pulling out _Wuthering Heights_. He stared at the cover for a few beats, then turned to show him.

Ryuga had found a stack of papers, and was examining them with interest. Kyoya frowned, trying to figure out what they were. It came to him in a whirl of panic, and he chucked the book backwards, pouncing on him and trying to rip them from his grasp. "DON'T LOOK AT THOSE!" he cried.

Ryuga flew his arm up, raising them high over his head and out of Kyoya's reach. He then peered up at the one on top, his smile awestruck. "Did you draw these?" he asked.

Kyoya let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes..."

"These are incredible. I didn't know that you _drew_," he breathed. Seeing Kyoya wasn't going to struggle for them, he lowered his arm and continued shuffling through the papers. "Wow..."

"I dabble a little...," Kyoya murmured. He held out his hands for them, and Ryuga gave them over willingly. Kyoya returned them back to their habitat, stored underneath the mattress, then turned back to him. He crossed his arms and ducked his head.

"You're blushing," Ryuga told him, and enveloped him in a hug. "There's no reason to be embarrassed..."

"Did you see it?" Kyoya asked, muffled by Ryuga's chest.

"See what?"

"The dragon one..."

Judging by the way Ryuga's grip on him tightened, he most definitely had. He pulled away, kissing the top of his head, and approached the abandoned book, now lying in a heap on the carpet. He picked it up now, holding it out for Kyoya to take.

They headed back downstairs, into the living room. Ryuga lounged into the arm of the chair, opening his legs to make room for Kyoya to lie down with him. Kyoya settled in, making himself comfortable. He rested his head on Ryuga's collarbone, cracking the book open to the first page. Ryuga wove his arms around him, resting his cheek against the top of Ryuga's head.

"Okay," Kyoya breathed, softly clearing his throat. "Ready?"

"Yup." Kyoya could feel him smiling.

He swallowed and began:

-_**1801-**_

_** I have just returned from a visit to my landlord—the solitary neighbor that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country! In all England, I don not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society. A perfect misanthropist's haven: and Mr. Heathcliff and I are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us. A capital fellow! He little imagined how my heart warmed towards him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered themselves, with a jealous resolution, still further in his waistcoat, as I announced my name.**_

_** "Mr. Heathcliff!" I said.**_

_** A nod was the answer.**_

_** "Mr. Lockwood, your new tenant, sir. I do myself the honor of calling as soon as possible after my arrival, to express the hope that I have not inconvenienced you by my perseverance in soliciting the occupation of Thrushcross Grange: I heard yesterday you had had some thoughts—"**_

_** "Thrushcross Grange is my own, sir," he interrupted, wincing. "I should not allow anyone to inconvenience me if I could hinder it—walk in!"**_

**A/N: ...one of my favorite books of all time is **_**Fangirl**_**, by Rainbow Rowell. It's a book that captures the life of someone like myself perfectly, and how sometimes being a part of a fandom is more than just fun...sometimes, it's the only thing that keeps you whole.**

** Anyway, I always thought it was really sweet when Cath read to Levi, because he can't read books and stuff, and because it makes the two of them so happy :3 So I thought I'd write a moment where these fucks are cuddled up on the couch with a book c: Besides, I really like **_**Wuthering Heights**_**. There's something very...darkly beautiful and tragic about that story.**

_**ANYWAY**_**. Thanks so much for reading, you guys ;3 Will update soon.**

_**Wuthering Heights **_**© Emily Brontë.**


	11. Chapter 11: Someone Set a Timebomb

**A/N: Hey guys! I wanted to update a little earlier. I've got a nice long weekend ahead of me, hopefully full of no homework. I still gotta work on that fucking essay - 3- But at least it's about something that I like—astrology o7o**

** Anyway. (I say that a lot, LOL ;;) My glasses came in today! I look like a fucking sexy BEAST, oh yush... -w- Just kidding XD**

** Furthermore...new chapter. :3 It's a little short...but...**

** Chapter 11: **Someone Set a Timebomb

Legend has it that time flies when you're having fun. But no one ever says the same thing about love. The days pressed into weeks which shaped into months in the blink of an eye, which they dedicated most of their time to Kyoya reading, Ryuga listening. Listening and listening, never interrupting. Tucked into the house at the dead end, nestled into the sofa and Ryuga's arms enclosing their bundle, securing them from reality. Kyoya's voice, usually gravelly and harsh, flowed like a waltz over the passages, never cracking, never stuttering. Sometimes Leone joined them, shoving himself in the crook of Ryuga's neck, purring happily like a motor. They were glad for the company.

Kyoya closed his frayed copy of _The Phantom of the Opera _softly, peeling himself off of Ryuga to plant a kiss on his lips. Ryuga smiled beneath him. "Tired already?" he murmured.

Kyoya set the book on the coffee table and rested his head on Ryuga's chest, close enough to hear the faint rhythm carried by his heart. "What day is it today?" he asked.

He waited while Ryuga racked his brain for the answer. "November...tenth," he said finally. "Why?"

"My apartment building should be finished rewiring any day now..."

He felt Ryuga tug his chin up and let him, sinking into his honey-colored eyes. "So you're saying you're moving back in?" he asked, his eyebrow arched in curiosity.

"Well," he said, "I don't know. So much has changed..."

"Very true. But." he leaned his forehead against his. "This house_ does_ get very lonely after a while."

"Are you trying to entail something?"

"I'm just saying Leone would miss you."

Kyoya laughed. "Right. _Leone_."

Ryuga chuckled along with him. "In all seriousness, though, I'd be very happy if you stayed."

"You want me to move in?"

"Precisely."

Kyoya smiled at the thought of making his stay here permanent, waking up every morning with a kiss and coffee, curled up together with Chinese takeout while they watched _Naruto_ reruns. "Alright then. But _you _have to help me move my stuff."

"Oh God." Ryuga's eyes widened in mock horror. "Please, tell me my living room isn't going to look like Hallmark had a fucking office party when you're done. I'm burning any fluffy pillows."

"Oh, please," Kyoya giggled. He kissed him again, sliding his arms around Ryuga's neck. "What I'm trying to say is yes, I would love to move in with you."

"Is that all you love?"

"No," he disagreed. "I love you, too."

Ryuga smiled tenderly.

"And bacon," he added, and Ryuga literally guffawed, eyes crinkling from his million-watt smile.

"You are such an _idiot_," he jabbed playfully, his laughter still bubbling freely.

"But I'm _your _idiot," Kyoya countered.

"Yes," he agreed, and sealed it with yet another kiss. "Always."

/.../

"_So fake your death_," Kyoya hummed, the bathroom walls absorbing his acoustics. "_Oh, it's your blame. And leave the lights on when you stay. Take off your clothes and dream and fade. Come on and feel that shame_."

Ryuga had left earlier, saying he had to do some "financial stuff", leaving Kyoya on his own to do whatever he pleased. So fat that only consisted of taking a shower, but the day was still young. He sort of wanted to do more bey training; reading to Ryuga had consumed much of his time. Not that he minded, of course.

As he stepped out of the shower, he hummed a different tune, drying off and dressing to the vibrations of his voice. "_Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die..._" He was still polishing off his matted head of hair as he swept out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam trailing behind him. "_I can't fear death no longer, I've died a thousand times_."

He slipped on his jacket and headed outside, stepping into the crisp afternoon air. A gust of wind swept a blanket of leaves over his boots. Autumn was reaching its curtain call, and the once vibrant leaves, flushed with color, were crimpling into brown, crusty shells.

"_Why explore the universe when we don't know ourselves_?" he continued to sing, soft enough for the rustling of the trees to drown it out. "_There's an emptiness inside our heads that no one dares to dwell_..."

He readied Leone in his launcher, then extended both of his arms, eyes set on a wilting tree, scrawny and naked—dead. Ryuga had mentioned one day he was going to cut it down. Well, he was going to take care of that for him.

Reminding himself to relax, he inhaled deeply through his nose. "3! 2! 1!" he counted down, to no one in particular. "Let it...RIP!"

/.../

Kyoya's eyes shot open at the sound of a soft _thump_, followed by a streak of softer, slower ones. Footsteps. He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and glancing at his phone for the time. It was only 11:25 p.m., but he'd turned in early, too exhausted while waiting up for Ryuga to come home. _Financial stuff, huh?_ he thought, doubting it.

He saw Ryuga's silhouette sweep inside, cursing under his breath. He watched intently as he stripped his shirt, moving about the room with shocking intensity. He then seemed to notice Kyoya's watchful gaze and froze solid. "You're still up?" he whispered.

"I wasn't a minute ago," he admitted, and followed this with a yawn. "Did everything turn out okay? You were gone for a long time."

"Yeah, everything's fine."

He sounded different. It was scaring him. He reached out for him, wanting him to come to bed. It was so cold without him by his side. warm hands slid into his and Ryuga's lips found Kyoya's in the pitch blackness. Usually Ryuga, even passionate, was still a little watchful, but this time the kiss was urgent, their tongues rough and frantic, like their mouths were the oasis in the desert heat.

Something was wrong. Something was _very_ wrong. He could sense it.

Ryuga drew back sharply, clearing his throat and crawling under the covers next to him, tugging Kyoya's body close and keeping a tight hold around his midsection. "Goodnight," he breathed.

"Goodnight," he echoed. He rolled over to face him, examining his face in the faint glow of the moonlight shining in from their window. He was already asleep, his chest rising and falling in sync with his breathing. Perhaps it was just his eyes playing tricks on him, but he looked pale and tired, the color drained from his cheeks and lips. Kyoya scooted closer, nestling his head in the crook of Ryuga's neck and kissing underneath his jaw, hoping peace would come.

/.../

When he awoke at dawn, Ryuga's side of the bed was empty, the blankets crumpled and unmade. Another flag—Ryuga always made the bed if he woke up before Kyoya, to keep him warm. He slipped out of bed and shuffled, still drowsy, to the door and beyond.

At the foot of the stairs he had a clear view of the living room, and could see Ryuga sitting at the dining table like usual, his face puckered in worry. Kyoya paused to watch him bite his lip, then suddenly turn enraged and slam his palm against the mahogany, making his coffee mug jump. His head fell into his hands, where he massaged the roots of his hair like he had a major headache.

Kyoya really didn't want to face whatever was brewing. He'd never seen Ryuga like this, at least in the time he'd been staying here. Something big was happening, and he didn't dare to step into it. He took a deep breath and continued down the steps, ambling into the kitchen to receive his first cup of coffee.

Ryuga bristled and watched Kyoya collect his favorite "I Heart NY" mug from the cupboard. "You're awake," he said.

"Of course," he replied, pouring his cup and then adding the creamer. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Ryuga said back. He was absently drumming his fingers on the side of his mug and watching him in what could only be described as dread.

Kyoya inhaled the aroma of French vanilla, then took a hesitant sip, as to not burn his tongue. "Did you sleep all right?"

"Yeah..." He then cleared his throat and stood from the table. "Kyoya...we..."

"Yeah?"

"We really need to talk."

"I figured," Kyoya agreed. He waved his hand towards him. "You've been a big mess ever since last night. What's bothering you?"

Ryuga looked terrified. His hands were balled together in fists that would make Slenderman turn tail and run. "Well..."

"Ryuga..." Kyoya sighed and placed his coffee down. He approached Ryuga cautiously, then when he saw he wasn't going to turn away, wrapped his arms around his stomach. "You can tell me anything, okay? Just talk to me. Please, this is killing me. _What's wrong_?"

Ryuga's hands slid up and placed themselves over Kyoya's, cupping them gently. Ryuga looked like he was having an inner battle with himself, debating whether to do one thing or another. He then glanced up and caught Kyoya's azure eyes, and something inside of him shifted. Ryuga leaned close and gently pressed his lips against Kyoya's temple, and Kyoya couldn't sworn he felt those lips form the words "I'm so sorry". Then he stepped backwards, away from Kyoya's embrace, and said those unforgivable words: "We need to break up."

The stun wasn't what got him at first. It was the aftershock, as the words slowly crept up to his brain and made sense. The palace that had been protecting his heart slowly started to crumble against the weight that the words brought. "Wh...what?"

"It has to happen, Kyoya. I'm...I'm sorry."

Kyoya wondered why the world was shaking, then realized it was his own body trembling. His mind had broken down. All he could see was the picture of his life shattering, and the chant of _no. No. NO._ This couldn't be happening, it just couldn't be. Because if Ryuga was meaning what he was saying... "Y-you don't mean that," he spit out, hating that his lungs were constricted. "Yesterday, you—"

"Things have changed, Kyoya. It has to be this way. I'm so—"

"_No_." He cried the word out like his life depended on it. In a way, it was. He'd already grown numb, despite his aching heart. His fortress was being abolished with the bombs of anguish that kept shooting at him, _boom_,_ boom_,_ boom_. What was this? Was he even alive? He strangled the roots of his hair, eyes scrunching shut. _If Ryuga is meaning what he's saying...then that means I'm worthless. I'm useless. I'm _pathetic.

"Kyoya?" Ryuga's tone was tainted with worry. "Are you okay? Are you having an anxiety attack?"

"_Why the fuck would you care_?" he hollered, loud enough for Africa to hear. Ryuga leapt back as if he was burnt. "What _is_ this? You tell me you love me and then you drop _this_ on me? It's so_ fucked up_, Ryuga. So _FUCKED UP_."

"You're hysterical. Calm down—"

"I will not calm down!" he exclaimed, thrusting his arms out into the air. "You can't just do this to people...play around and mess with their emotions, and then rip their hearts out like this!"

Ryuga's eyebrows descended steeply over his eyes. "You think I was _playing_ with you? I meant every word I ever said to you."

"Then explain this," Kyoya challenged bitterly, spinning on his heel and charging away from him, to the staircase. "Explain why you're doing this. If you really love me, why the _fuck _would you destroy me?"

He was halfway up the steps when Ryuga stole his arm and reeled him back around. They were so close, you couldn't even fit a deck of cards between them. Their eyes bored into each other's, only this time not with happiness; not with love, or compassion. A stormy blue, a fiery gold. They were enraged and ready to lunge at each other's throats. _How did it come to this? What _happened?

Kyoya couldn't stop himself. He wanted Ryuga to feel the same agony that had engorged him, and struck him with words, each one as sharp as a whip. "How could you? How could you play with me like I'm a puppet, when I already told you how fractured my wood was? You were the first person to make me feel like I was worth fighting for. Like I didn't just live; that I was worth _knowing_." He shook his head and whipped back around, leaping up the steps as fast as he could. And when Ryuga tried to touch him again, he threw him off.

"What're you doing?" He called from the bottom of the stairs as Kyoya slammed the door shut on the guest bedroom.

"_Packing_." he exclaimed. He swept up mountains of dirty laundry from the carpet and stuffed it into his suitcase without looking to see if it was his. But just as he zipped it shut, the entire burden of the situation crashed back overtop of him, taking his energy with it. He lied his head on top of the luggage and let out shaky breaths, his body a disarray of rickety, dry sobs. He couldn't cry. Not yet. Not until he was far out of here, even though he knew he had nowhere to go.

Because if he went back to face the emptiness of his apartment, he may never see the sun again.

**A/N: ...*flees from computer***

** Songs mentioned:**

** "Fake Your Death"—My Chemical Romance: watch?v=6T0zrwEmKwk**

** "Hospital For Souls"—Bring Me The Horizon: watch?v=gvm9m47wt54**


	12. Chapter 12: Can You Feel My Heart?

**A/N: ;w; *brings you all in for a group hug* I was sure some of you would be mad at me for that last chapter, so I was a little anxious. But it seems you just want to find out what the fuck is going on, and I love that. Thank you so much ;7; So many lovely reviews :3**

** Obviously, things have shifted. There's going to be a lot of angst in the next few chapters...so be prepared.**

** Okay. I'm going to try and write as fast as I can c: This month is full of days off of school, because of a yearly festival my microscopic shit of a town has, and since I have no interest in mingling with the likes of them...I'll be here. Or out garage sale shopping or something o3o**

** Chapter 12: **Can You Feel My Heart?

_"I'm scared to get close and I hate being alone. I long for that feeling to not feel at all. The higher I get, the lower I'll sink. I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim."_

—_"Can You Feel My Heart"—Bring Me The Horizon._

"You look awful, Kyoya," Tsubasa said when they'd reached his apartment and Kyoya had lounged on the couch, wrapped in a soft fleece blanket. He was offered a mug of steaming hot cocoa, which he took but didn't drink. "What happened? You can tell me."

He wasn't so sure of that. He'd left his voice at the curb, a couple miles from Ryuga's house, when he'd collapsed on the sidewalk and started screaming. He'd just screamed into the empty air, at the trees that shrouded him and at the damnable birds soaring freely in the sky. How dare anybody be happy on a day so horrid as this one; it was unjust. He could never catch a break. The one moment he started to feel vital, someone ripped it away from him. And the suddenness had him rattled—he could barely stand on his own two feet before almost eating pavement. So he screamed and screamed until the sky had stolen his voice, until every cry into the air swept away with the languid wind, and he'd finally carved out any emotion he felt in his chest with his outbreak.

He'd dug his nails into his jeans until they cut slits into his thighs, waiting to cry, but he'd lost all of the emotion inside of him, instead replaced with a horrible numbness. He glared up at the sky, spotted with wisps of white and streaked with the suns brilliant rays. It was going to be a beautiful day, if he would ever make it through it. He was going to choke on his own, bottled up emptiness. He couldn't even muster the strength the pick himself back up onto his feet and trudge forward. He rested his head on top of the suitcase and shut his eyes, surrendering to whatever fate had in store.

When he awoke, he thought it was to the heavy rainfall pounding onto his skin, but he saw a faint beam of light cross his vision through the faint red of his eyelids. He didn't move, even when a silver Neon rolled to a stop next to him, and a person got out, scrambling to his side and shaking him, whispering his name. When he looked up, through the thick veil of rain he could make out a familiar silhouette.

"Kyoya, what in the world are you—" his visitor started to gripe, then seemed to decide that getting the both of them out of the blistering storm was better than arguing. Something heavy was draped over him—a jacket. He was then hoisted to his feet and led into the passenger seat without so much as a word, his suitcase tucked into the backseat.

The whole car ride was a blur of streaked gray; it was still early, but the sudden thunderstorm had ingested what was supposed to be a picture-perfect day, and he watched the raindrops slither their way down his window as he was led away from the house at the dead end, full of memories that would haunt him until his heart stopped beating. The silence soaked the air. Neither of them turned on the radio.

Now, he was confronted with two watchful tawny eyes, waiting for him to explain himself. Kyoya glowered down at the cocoa, watching the mini-marshmallows float on top of their chocolate-flavored lake, happy and care-free. The hollowness hadn't slipped away, and he was still as stale as the day was long. Was this normal in—he forced himself to think the word—breakups? To completely shut down and want nothing more than to slip away?

He knew why: no matter the circumstances, and even in spite of everything that had just been thrown at him this morning, he loved Ryuga. He loved him so much, he felt like he would burn up. But Ryuga had taken his love, the love that he'd thought they shared, and slashed at it with words as sharp as knives; he'd slaughtered it into a bloody, disheveled mess. And not even much was said, besides the meanings, hidden like ghosts. What he meant was he no longer cared for him. No longer wanted to be his anything. No longer believed in him. It didn't matter if he did at first; the fact of the matter was that if he had still loved him, he would not be sitting here in a heap of crushed remains, away from him. He should be in his arms, soothing him quiet with just whispers in his ear. Should be with him, curled up on the couch and watching bad sit-coms, stuffing their face with triple chocolate fudge ice cream. Should be kissing him helpless while the inconstant moon drew a spotlight on their bed, like they were the perfect example of what true love looked like, and the whole world should see...

"Kyoya? _Kyoya_." He became aware of Tsubasa's urgent voice, pulling him back down to reality. He also became aware of his shuddering hand, causing the hot chocolate to slosh over the rim of his mug. He set it down at the coffee table at once.

"I think you need some sleep," Tsubasa suggested, rising from the couch. "I had Yu stay over at Kenta's place, so I'll take his room. C'mon."

Tsubasa's bed was soft and warm, but not comfortable, not right at all. He was so used to the way the mattress hugged inward on his body; he'd left his imprint there, and having to adapt to something new like this only made it worse. It was empty and miserable without the heat of another body. At two hours of hopeless restfulness, the misery finally ate a hole in his chest and he broke down crying. Tsubasa rushed in and tried to soothe him, but it took him a moment to comprehend what Kyoya was trying to say: _here_. He slipped under the covers with him and held him tight, rubbing Kyoya's back tenderly while Kyoya cried, cried, _cried_ into his chest, until he fell into an uneasy doze.

When he awoke the room was swallowed in darkness, a faint crack of light peeping in from the door held ajar. It took him a second to remember where he was, and when he did he wished he hadn't. The heavy feeling returned, crushing him with its weight. But he wasn't going to cry—he was through with crying. He staggered to his feet and crept out of bed and slipped into the light.

Tsubasa was perched in a dining room chair, a hefty amount of paperwork spread in front of him and a coffee to his right. He looked up and spotted him, and his posture straightened. He pulled his earbuds out of his ears and wrapped them around his neck, and Kyoya caught a wave of something electronic, he guessed techno. "Hey, sleepyhead, how are you feeling?"

Kyoya flickered his eyes; these lights were much, _much_ too bright. They hurt his head. "What time is it?" he yawned.

Tsubasa smiled, comforted that Kyoya had finally said something for the first time that day. "It's quarter to nine. I thought you were going to sleep the entire day." He pulled back his chair and approached Kyoya cautiously, then touched his face, testing his complexion. "God, you look pale. Do you need anything? Soup, medicine, something to hit?"

"Tsubasa, you really don't have to do this," Kyoya insisted.

"Do what?"

"Take care of me," he said, gently batting his hand away. "I'm fine, really."

They both knew that was a truck-full of bullshit. Tsubasa frowned. "Kyoya...as long as I've known you, I've _never _seen you cry. And today...you wouldn't _stop_ crying."

Kyoya flinched and ducked his head. "That doesn't mean I've never cried before. Everybody cries."

"I know, but..." Tsubasa tilted his head. "God, what the heck _happened_? Can't you tell me?" He reached up and started to brush away some of Kyoya's bangs, which were flopping in his face.

He didn't even think about it. Before he knew it, his arm flew up and snatched Tsubasa's wrist out of mid-air. He clenched it in a vice-tight grip, and he could see it trembling. "That," he growled, "is _off limits_."

To his credit, Tsubasa didn't wince or show any sign of pain. His golden eyes widened, however, taken aback by the sudden outburst. Gold. _Why does everyone's eyes need to be that fucking color?_ Kyoya ripped his arm away and grumbled an apology.

"It's fine..." Tsubasa replied, dropping his arm and rubbing his wrist, which were streaked with red. He raised his eyebrows. "But...do you see my point?"

He groaned, digging his palms in his eyes. he was still groggy and felt like fucking crap. Everything...everything was becoming too much. "Do you have any ibuprofen?" he asked pleadingly.

Tsubasa nodded and headed into the kitchen, opening up a cupboard above the microwave. Kyoya dumped himself on the couch, which wasn't beige, wasn't polyester, and felt extremely wrong to be lying on. Tsubasa delivered him the tablets, which he chased down with water.

"Do you want something to eat?" Tsubasa asked him. "You look famished."

He was, so he bobbed his head. He felt Tsubasa leave, and he shut his eyes again. He was desperate for sleep to overtake him. When he was asleep, it was painless, like dying peacefully each night, slipping away like a petal down a gentle current. His thoughts didn't haunt him. He wanted badly to leave his body, to disconnect himself from his mind and just be blank. But it wouldn't take him. He slit his eyes open and stared up at the ceiling lamp strung overhead, causing his vision to fuzz and become spotted with prisms of color.

He was tired. So, so tired.

/.../

Ryuga stared, motionless, out the window, painted the deepest shade of black. _Black is such a beautiful color,_ he thought. It swallows everything, even light. A deep, bottomless black pit. He wondered idly if he jumped in, would it swallow him too?

He raised his bottle to his lips and dipped his head back, racing his emotions back down with a tidal wave of Smirnoff. It burnt his throat, and he hated the taste, but he could already feel his head fogging, his thoughts slipping. Good. He took another sip, grimacing.

_I don't deserve him_, he thought. His fist constricted around the neck of the bottle. _I don't deserve anybody as good as him_.

He felt a scream brewing inside of him, his anger awakening and prickling across his skin. He was devoured in guilt, just thinking about Kyoya's smile; his laugh, or the sparkle in his eyes that turned them from the deep, dark depths of the sea to glittering sapphires.

_"But I'm _your_ idiot,"_ Kyoya had said.

_"Yes,"_ he'd agreed, bending to kiss him. _"Always."_

_Always_. He looked down at his almost empty bottle, and noticed for the first time the purple colored accents on the pristine silver glass. _Purple_. His anger turned from a current into a ball of electric fury. He bared his teeth, his grip so firm on the neck of the bottle it shook violently, like his body. _Purple. What a fucking sick, twisted, demented color. I fucking hate purple. I hate it so, so much_.

He leapt to his feet and chucked it right at the wall in a fit. It exploded with a sickening _crash_, sending glass shards everywhere and vodka splashing to the carpet. "_FUCK YOU!_" he howled to the room. The demon in his head smiled maliciously, eyes cutting into him. "_I FUCKING HATE YOU, YOU TWISTED BASTARD! GO TO HELL!_"

He took a moment to collect himself, knowing screaming wasn't going to do him any good. Then, he felt his arm start to burn scalding hot and brought it up to eye level. A piece of glass poked out from a cut on his wrist at least three inches wide, and blood was oozing out of it, a trickle already slithering down his tricep like a tear.

"_Shit, shit, shit_," he griped, gently tugging the shard out with an additional hiss as it left another burn in its departure. He left the bedroom at once and swept down the stairs, sucking the blood pooling from the wound up as he reached the kitchen and pulled the first-aid kit out from under the sink. He rolled out the gauze and wrapped it around his wrist a couple times.

Leone strolled into the kitchen, greeting Ryuga by rubbing his rump between Ryuga's legs. He meowed up at him, the cry sounding sad and lonely.

Ryuga looked down into his wide, glassy green eyes sorrowfully. "I know," he said softly, closing the kit. "I miss him, too."

**A/N: Oh my, what's happening with Ryuga? :U Only time will tell :3**

** This has to be one of my personal favorite chapters. I don't know, it's just always been easy for me to write angst. That's weird, isn't it? ;-;**

** Thanks so much for reading, my loves c:**

** Songs Mentioned:**

** "Can You Feel My Heart"—Bring Me The Horizon: watch?v=nNbZJ-IgAEg**

** This song heavily inspired this chapter, as you can see o3o**


	13. Chapter 13: Ten Thousand Feet

**A/N: Hey guys. This chapter took longer than usual, and it's because it's a rather…**_**difficult **_**topic for me to write about.**

** I think you'll understand.**

** Chapter 13:** Ten Thousand Feet

The next few weeks at Tsubasa's place dragged, a lapse of the same routine: waking up with the pillows stained wet, evidence sleep is not always peaceful. Then creeping out to the living room where Tsubasa was already awake and lively, usually cooking up something for Kyoya that he nit-picked at. He barely ate anything, despite Tsubasa's graciousness, and was rapidly losing weight. He dropped ten pounds in one week, and once passed out in the shower. It was only then that he ate an entire meal, just to please Tsubasa.

He slept a lot, and sometimes he didn't even get out of bed. He opened his eyes and stared at the walls, occasionally crying. He popped insomnia pills like they were candy, even if he'd just woken up. He could tell Tsubasa was worried sick about him; he was all too happy to play as Kyoya's butler, bringing him blankets when he was cold, a glass of water when he was thirsty, a shoulder when he was hysterical.

One atypically sun-splashed day, considering it was inching towards winter, Kyoya surprised himself by mustering enough strength to sit up in bed, and daydreamed contently while staring out the window. The sunlight shined in like a spotlight, and Kyoya held his arm up to it, admiring how the light made his porcelain skin glitter like a moonbeam.

Skin. Such soft, vulnerable skin. He could see his veins intersection like rivers on a map underneath the pale flesh-tone.

The door to the bedroom opened, and Kyoya dropped his arm, turning his head towards it. Tsubasa stepped in, and he seemed happy to see that he was not only awake, but sitting up as well. "Hey," he greeted, stepping out of the doorway. "How're you feeling?"

"Okay," he said, and for his benefit smiled meekly.

"I'm glad," he said. He moved to the closet and began flipping through hangers.

"Are you...going somewhere?" he asked.

"The store, to get groceries," he replied over his shoulder. He eventually settled on a pale gray jacket and slipped his arm through the sleeves. "Do you want to come with me? Or are you all right here by yourself?"

He considered his options rather briefly. Out there? With..._people_? What a ridiculous idea. "I'm fine here," he decided.

"Alright then." Tsubasa turned and, to his surprise, ruffled Kyoya's hair. "I'll be back shortly, okay?"

"Okay," Kyoya repeated. He watched as Tsubasa left the room, shutting it behind him, because Kyoya had told him a billion times to do so.

He tried his best to adjust to the feeling of loneliness that suddenly came over him, just as the door slammed in the distance, announcing Tsubasa's departure. He clenched his fists determinedly. He had to become used to this sooner or later—being alone. But with Tsubasa at his beck and call, he'd forgotten what it felt like. He tried to convince himself he was being ridiculous; people lived alone all of the time. But perhaps it wasn't the best method for him to endure right now. He'd grown up alone. It wasn't something he wanted to come back to.

He _needed_ somebody, he realized. Despite the countless amount of times he'd insisted he was a lone wolf, independent and courageous on his own, he'd only been kidding himself. After all, who wants to be alone, really? People say that they don't like crowds and prefer solitude, but maybe inside they're crying, silently weeping inside their heads; the only place no one can hear them. No one should ever be completely alone.

But that was just where he was leading to. His hands began to quiver at the mere thought. After growing up as an exile, he hadn't grown a strong hatred of people—he was _afraid_. Afraid of growing close to somebody, and have them grow sick of him. Afraid of repulsing them and ending up desolated, left alone, a dilapidated edition of what he used to be. That's just what had happened with Ryuga.

The hollowness in Kyoya's chest crept alive again. Alone. He was alone. Completely and utterly alone. Sooner or later, he'd have to leave Tsubasa's place, correct? He couldn't take care of him like this forever. And then he'd have to go back to his empty, gloomy apartment, where no one would kiss him good morning and goodnight, no one would be there for him to read to. No one to eat ice cream with, or care if he was upset or in pain. No one to hold him. No one to love him.

No one loved him. Not even himself.

Suddenly the sunlight, previously leaving him wonderstruck, hurt to look at. He slinked out of bed and snapped the curtains shut, and a blanket of darkness draped overtop of the room, taking it in one bite. Kyoya walked to the front of the bed and dropped to his knees, pulling his suitcase towards him and unzipping it, not even sure what it was he was searching for. Maybe there was something in there to lift his disheartened spirits, although deep inside he knew it wasn't possible. Sometimes when a cloak of obscurity overcomes you, there's no motivation to crawl out. You want to stay in a pit of despair and dwell while the crows fly overhead, singing a tune of misery. There's no escape; no ladder or rope for you to hold onto.

His hand landed on something freshly soft and he froze, although his hand continued to maneuver around the alien fabric underneath his touch. In disbelief, he pulled it out from underneath a pile of jeans and held it up for him to look at. His fingers traced over the graphic artwork, then over the logo that read _A Skylit Drive_. This was Ryuga's shirt, in all of its supple and whimsical glory. He brought it closely underneath his nose and inhaled, and his scent wafted over him so strongly he almost choked. It was overwhelmingly like French vanilla and coffee grounds. He loved it. He inhaled deeper, like a crack addict needing his next fill. Even with his aroma hovering around him like an aura, the sadness inside of him only grew, because this was the only bit he had of him: his favorite band, and this shirt. He would never have all of him ever again.

In desperation, he raised it up and slipped it over his head. It was a little big on him, as expected, with Ryuga's more muscular build. He clutched his arms like he was closing the gates on himself—_no one can see_. He continued to scour through his suitcase in desperation. Maybe he'd accidentally taken one of his pairs of jeans. Instead, his hand landed on something else. Something hard and sharp.

Heart thumping wildly, he slid it out. A mirror, compact enough to fit into the palm of his hand. He glowered at his reflection. _Look at you,_ it said._ Look at your beastly face, and those hideous scars. You're so fucking ugly. Did you really think anyone would ever love _you?

"_Stop it_," he hissed.

It cackled at him, a sadist thriving in the moment. _No wonder no one likes you. You're such a waste of space. You're worthless; you have nothing to offer anybody. You're not anything special. You're so..._**pathetic**.

"_STOP_!"

The mirror burst in his hand, unable to take Kyoya's contracting grip on it. Kyoya gasped as he felt a new slice of pain, and he looked down at his hands. Large chunks of glass sat pretty on the carpet while his hands wept, decorated in gruesome, criss-crossing cuts. Blood trickled and slid down the elevation of his hands. He breathed heavily through his nose, his teeth clamped together too tight to help. He balled his hands into fists, and the pain flashed harder.

He fell backwards onto the field of glass, the pieces pressing sharply into his back. The blood flowed steadily like a gentle river down the length of his arms and dripped onto the floor, a steady rhythm, like a dripping faucet.

_What's the point of living...?_ he began to ponder, while the pattern of the walls smeared into an undecipherable code. _What's the point...if this is all it leads to...? Pain?_

The shards of glass pulsed against him, a constant reminder of their presence. Eventually, he shut his eyes.

_I don't want to feel anything anymore..._

/.../

Ryuga had no trouble finding the alcohol, but a harder time choosing which one to buy. He picked up a bottle of Burnett's and estimated its weight. At least it wasn't purple. He ran his hand through his unkempt hair and groaned. He thought he'd be okay coming out to the store, but he was a fucking mess. One look at him, and mothers cowered over their children like he was wielding an ax. He'd barely made it to the parking lot, almost totaling a shiny sports car into scrap metal. Maybe he needed counseling. He'd tried that once, back when, but it was pure bullshit; they had no idea, not a single clue, what he'd been through. They tried to make it seem like they understood, but it just made him feel farther on the outside.

He plopped the bottle a little too forcefully back onto its perch and kicked the tiled floors beneath him halfheartedly. Maybe he should've stayed home. But he couldn't stay there forever. It wasn't healthy to be surrounded in a place full of memories of him. He needed to get out, do something besides drown his grief in alcoholic drinks. He'd never been much of a drinker before, but this time was different. He knew what he really needed.

He needed _him_.

"Well, what a surprise."

Ryuga turned his head and captured the stare of familiar ocher eyes. "You?" he said.

Tsubasa stepped forward, brow puckered and arms folded while he examined their surroundings. "I wasn't aware...you're an alcoholic?"

"No," he immediately replied, although under the circumstances he wasn't sure if he was telling the truth. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, you have that sluggish look about you," he informed.

_Sluggish_. Nice. "I'm just buying some drinks. That's all."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bottle perched on a free samples counter and snatched it up, ignoring the worker's cry of protest. He held it out to Tsubasa invitingly. "Want a drink?"

He said it just to tease him; Tsubasa was the type to take a gingerale over a shot of tequila any day of the week. He assumed he didn't drink. But to his astonishment, Tsubasa accepted the offer, dipped his head back and chugged a good half of it in one sitting. Ryuga watched, eyes wide, while he guzzled it all down.

When Tsubasa was finished, he looked like he was swallowing a mouthful of worms, but eventually forced it down his throat. He handed it back to Ryuga, who was still watching with newfound respect. Catching the Dragon Emperor's gaze, he took a shaky breath and whispered, "I needed that."

"Rough week?" Ryuga asked slowly, taking a sip from the bottle himself.

"You could say that," he agreed with a laugh.

"Yu causing shit?"

"No; it's Kyoya."

The bottle accepted gravity's influence and slipped from Ryuga's hand, pummeling to the floor and cracking open, spilling liquor all over Ryuga's boots. Tsubasa watched the broken glass and the flooding pool of alcohol with surprise. Ryuga didn't even care of the scene he'd made—he was too busy standing there, dumbstruck while the words sunk in. "Kyoya's been staying at your place?" he forced out.

Tsubasa nodded. "Yeah. For the past few weeks. I found him curled up on the side of the road, clutching a suitcase and practically motionless. I thought he was dead."

Ryuga stared with horror.

"I took him back to my place, and tried to ask him what was wrong...but he won't say much. At first he wouldn't even talk. Then all he did was cry. I got so scared that if I let him go out on his own, he would...do something reckless." He ruffled his hair and sighed. "He doesn't really do much but lie in bed or sleep. He doesn't even _eat_. He's like a corpse, or a zombie or something."

Tsubasa finally caught Ryuga's look of dread and stopped talking. "What? You're not saying anything."

"_Oh my God..._" he whispered, the palm of his hands digging into his eyes. "Oh my fucking _God_..."

"What?" Tsubasa demanded.

"I destroyed him. I really did. I thought, maybe it won't be as bad as I thought, but..." He massaged the roots of his hair. "I'm such a fucking _monster_..."

"Wait." Tsubasa's demeanor immediately shifted, snapping from being wary and off-center to a protective mother in an instant. "You mean _you_ did this to him?"

Ryuga watched him carefully. Tsubasa looked infuriated, like he was ready to snap and lunge for his throat. He guess he had reason to be. He wasn't exactly sitting pretty at the moment. "Yes," he whispered.

"Oh, this is just _fantastic_," Tsubasa barked sarcastically, throwing his hands up. "I guess that explains it. You feel so _awful_ about breaking his heart, you've sentenced yourself to drowning in alcohol? That's a new low, even for you."

Ryuga blinked, becoming cagey. "How did you know about us?" he asked slowly.

"He told me."

"When?"

"Months ago," he said. "We ran into each other in the store."

Ryuga glared at him. "Don't accuse me of something you know nothing about. This wasn't planned."

"It wasn't _planned_?" he spat. "Is that all this is to you? A plan?"

"Listen," he growled, approaching him so he could speak without anyone overhearing. Tsubasa was tall, but he still had a half of a head on him, which helped clear his point across. "_You don't know a fucking thing about me_. I loved—no, _love_ him. I love him so much, I can't stand it. I love him so much, he's all I think about at night. He's the thing I think about every morning when I open my eyes. He's all I ever think about. I would _die _for him. I'd do anything to keep him safe."

"Then what the _heck_ did you break his heart for?"

"What else?" he demanded. "To protect him. I never, _never _wanted to hurt him. These past few weeks...have felt like _centuries_. I feel like I'm trapped in my own personal hell." He felt his anger and simmer and fade into an essence of sorrow. "Tsubasa, you _have to believe me_. I...I can't tell you what happened, but you have to trust me that I did what I did for his own good."

Tsubasa's shoulders sagged, not in defeat, but in relaxation. His golden eyes still glimmered with fury, but his rigid posture melted. He was slowly starting to believe him. Slowly. "I've heard that before. You do something you don't want to do to protect someone you love. But...Ryuga..." He surprised him by grasping his shoulders and giving him a gentle shake, implying he needed to pay attention. "Is being 'good' meaning being sad all of the time? Because that's all he is, is..._sad_. He's so depressed, Ryuga. If being good means being away from you...I don't think he cares to be 'good'."

He'd never had such a profound conversation with him before. But his words turned the wheels in his head. All of a sudden, he felt adrenaline pump through him and make his brain, so muddled with alcohol, clear and purify. God, he was so fucking _stupid_. What had he been thinking? He'd made such a stupid decision...and look at the mess he'd made. He needed to make things right. He needed to explain. "I need to see him," he blurted. "Now."

Tsubasa smiled, knowing he would come to this conclusion.

/.../

Kyoya was still splayed across his bed of glass, arms sweeping across the sharp edges that pricked his skin and caused it to cry tears of blood. He pictured himself on the edge of a very steep cliff, death waiting with open jaws down below him. He imagined taking a step into the air and pummeling far below, eyes closed as if in a peaceful sleep, knowing he would only fly after he'd landed, for then he would gain his angel wings.

Maybe he could go to a better place. A place where no one would hurt him, a place rumored to be a peaceful sanctuary. A place where pain was nonexistent; there was only the beauty of the chorus and the spotless, dove-white clouds. All he had to do was take a step. Take one little step, and he would be there. He could finally disconnect from this life he was forced to encounter. He could finally cut the strings that linked him to all of the pain. No pain. _No pain_.

He chanted this over and over in his mind as he rose to his feet and approached the window, sheltered with the billowing yellow curtains. He pushed them aside, and the brilliant buttery light shined on him, making his skin warm at the delicate touch. The sky was a beautiful virgin blue, and he stood awhile, trying to remember what this color reminded him of—peace. He carefully lifted the window up, breathing in the smell of fresh grass and wildflowers. He hoisted himself onto the banister, clutching the sides so tight he thought his fingers would break with the effort. After all, he was on the second to the highest floor; it was not exactly a small drop. He stared down at the street below, where the occasional car passed by. It was not very busy in this part of town. _That was good,_ he thought. He wanted to die quietly.

His inner conscious was in hysterics, yelling and screaming at him to stop being an idiot and get down from there. But he as a whole was surprisingly calm. An expected death can do that to people. He was ready to die. He was ready for an escape, and was ready to finally, _finally_ just be rid of this wasted world. There was no time to tie up loose ends, or to write a sappy letter about how much he'd miss everybody, and to forgive him, and to forgive themselves. There wasn't much he was giving up.

"Tsubasa," he found himself whispering, "please forgive me. But I have to do this."

He hesitantly lifted a foot, and was suspended by his own fear for a blink of a moment. He swallowed hard, and gradually started to release his grip.

Just as he was about to plummet, there was a _click_, and then someone screamed his name. As his footing slipped, strong arms enclosed around him and squeezed him tight enough that he thought his stomach would make an appearance. He felt four arms around him, trying to hoist him back into the apartment, even as he thrashed and clawed at the air, struggling to break free. It was so _close_; the veil that divided the living and the dead. He could almost touch it. He let out a blood-curdling scream and continued to lash at the clouds strolling through the sky, so close he could taste it. But to his dismay, they eventually heaved him up and dragged him back into the apartment.

He was thrust to the floor, and he watched while Tsubasa slammed the window shut, locked it, then snapped the curtains closed again. His silvery hair was tousled and wild with panic. He glared down at him with flashing yellow eyes, full of absolute terror. "—the _fuck_ were you thinking?" he bellowed, atypical of him to use such language. "Are you _insane_? Say something!"

But he couldn't. Because, sprawled out on the carpet, he was locked in a hypnotizing gaze with two fiery golden eyes, two eyes full of dread, horror, shock, and mortification. Two eyes that for the longest of time, he'd known better than his own. They were glittering with panic, yet longing, as they bored into the depths of him, like he could see right through him. His whole body was trembling with fear, completely unnerved by the scene he'd just witnessed. Finally, his lips uttered a single word: "Kyoya..."

Kyoya finally collected himself after recovering from his shock, and leapt to his feet. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Kyoya, don't you realize what you were just about to—"

"_Shut up_," he growled, fists clenched in fury. "_Why did you stop me_?"

"You were about to _kill yourself_!" Ryuga barked, then flinched and lowered his voice. "What were you _thinking_?"

"You should've just let me die!" he cried, storming past him and out the door, into the living room. "I want to die! You should've just let me fall and break into a thousand pieces! Then you could finally dispose of this _garbage_ that was weighing on your conscious!"

He felt Ryuga flinch, but didn't dare turn around. He would be spellbound by just his very presence, and would fall apart all over again. He'd start crying, and then Ryuga would get one more fragment of him. He'd already taken so much...there wasn't much left besides grief.

"Kyoya, please let me explain myself!" he cried.

Kyoya shook his head so hard his brain rattled. "_No_. Shut up."

"_Please_." He felt his touch on his elbow, and ripped his arm away.

"_DON'T TOUCH ME_!" he screamed. He was dry-heaving from trying to hold it in. _Why didn't I just fucking __**JUMP?**_

"Kyoya, you don't understand, please—"

He dared himself to turn around, and when he did, he was so full of malice he could spit venom. "I don't _understand_? You're right. I don't understand. I don't understand what the fucking hell happened, what _changed_ you all of a sudden, and why you ripped your love out of me like I could just stitch myself back together!"

_It hurts. Ithurtsithurtsithurts. Make it go away_.

"I mean, is it somebody else? Did you find a new body-bag to fuck? Somebody who came brand-new in a fucking _box_?"

Ryuga looked like he'd slapped him. He wish he could, but he couldn't feel his arms. "Kyoya..." —_stop saying my name_—"No! Of course not; I only love you!"

"You love me," he repeated, and laughed like a mad-man straight out of a black-and-white horror flick. "That's so _rich_! Next you'll be saying you're not a complete asshole. Or that you actually have a heart. You want one, Tin-Man? Sorry, I don't have much left." He pivoted on his heel, unable to look at his face anymore.

There was a dreary silence that followed, and it rang in his ears like a thousand telephones. "I know you hate me," came a whisper, so quiet he almost didn't catch it. "And I know I deserve everything you just said. I know...I know I don't deserve someone as special as you. But please...just let me explain what happened."

"I don't care," he deadpanned. "I really, really don't want to hear it."

"_Please_. It's important."

"So is this." He tilted his head the slightest fraction to the side. "_I never want to see you again_. Leave me _alone_. Just...just _go_."

Again, that dreadful silence. Ryuga remained motionless for a moment, then slowly stepped forward, then another step, and brushed by Kyoya, combing his fingers against his arm before he exited the apartment, throwing one last tortured glance his way. Then he was gone.

Kyoya collapsed. He fell to the ground and caught himself on his hands and heaved into the carpet, spilling out choked sobs. His fingers clutched the carpet helplessly.

Tsubasa peeled himself off of the wall and ran over to him, wrapping an arm around him and holding him tight. Kyoya returned the embrace, burying his head in Tsubasa's shoulder while he finished. Tsubasa whispered gentle consoles—_ssh, ssh, it's okay_—and rubbed his back tenderly, trying to calm him down.

"Kyoya," he whispered, "it'll be okay."

"I-I..." he sputtered. "I...I know."

/.../

Tsubasa sat Kyoya on the couch and went to get the first-aid kit, bringing it back and joining him. He talked while he bandaged Kyoya's hands.

"Evidently, there's more to this story than I thought," he began. He peered up momentarily from his work to look at Kyoya, but he was watching the gauze. "You really scared me today."

Kyoya said nothing.

"I thought...that day in the store...that this was some sort of...fling," he pressed on. He shifted from right hand to left. "But...Kyoya, how long ago did it start?"

"At the wedding," he whispered.

Tsubasa stopped bandaging. "Ryo and Fae's wedding?"

He nodded, faintly remembering their encounter in the hallway. "He kissed me. In the hallway. I was a bit of a mess after that..."

Tsubasa frowned. "That was over six months ago."

Kyoya drew his newly-bandaged hands back to his sides. "Yeah. It seems so far away now..."

Tsubasa packed away the kit and placed it in front of the couch. "Come here," he ordered, patting his lap. "Talk."

A year ago, Kyoya might've told him to take a visit to that scary, hot, underground world. Today, he followed orders and lied down, resting his head on Tsubasa's lap and letting him stroke his hair, which he'd gotten accustomed to. He realized then why he liked Tsubasa so much: he was like a parent to him. After running away and striking out on his own for a few years, he'd lost that comfortable nature a parent could bring. After all, the caress was not at all romantic, but very soothing, like a mother calming a child after a nightmare. It was nice to have someone care for you, even if it's in the completely opposite direction.

So he told him everything. He relayed his entire story to him, even his days as Catholic School Misfit, a tale he'd never thought he'd be able to retell. He told him about everything Ryuga and him had shared, although not investing too deep. He even told him, although passively, about the sex. Tsubasa remained quiet, word for word.

When he was finished, Tsubasa rubbed his shoulder. "So you two are in love," he said, to tie it all up.

"Were," Kyoya corrected.

"No. _Are_," he insisted. "You still love him."

He sighed heavily. "Of course I do," he confessed. "I still love him so, _so_ much. But..." He ducked his eyes to the floor.

"And he still loves you. He told me this morning he was still desperately in love with you. He wasn't lying, Kyoya."

Kyoya's brow wrinkled. "But that doesn't make any sense..."

"You should've heard him out, Kyoya. I think something happened 'behind the scenes'. I think he might've been acting against his own will." He bent his head down so he could look Kyoya in the eyes. "Do you understand?"

A knock on the door cut the air. Tsubasa moved off of the couch to answer it. "Maybe you should lie down for a bit," he suggested. Kyoya lounged himself across, burying his left cheek in the pillow. Tsubasa draped a quilt over his body and Kyoya snuggled into it, pleased by the warmth.

Tsubasa knelt down to straighten the corners. "And don't you ever scare me like that again," he scolded softly. "I understand now that you've had a very rough life. I know sometimes that the easiest way seems to be to just give up. But you have so much ahead of you, Kyoya. So much. And you _do _have people that care about you. I care about you. Alright?" He ruffled his hair once more, kissed his temple like he was his mother, and walked around the couch to answer the door.

He sounded like he was caught off guard. "Oh, it's you."

"Sorry, Tsubasa," a voice, a bit nasal and annoying, said. "But Kenchi said I couldn't stay at his place any longer. I've overused my brownie points."

"That's fine, I understand." He heard the sound of the door closing, then a soft _rrrring_ sound, like wheels. "I'll have to pay Kenta back for doing me such a favor."

"Yeah. What the flip was this all about _anyway_? Did you need me out of the apartment so you could wrap my Christmas presents in peace? Because I _will_ find them!"

"I bet. You see...well..."

"Hey." The voice was increasingly closer. "No way! Is that _Yo-Yo_?"

"_Yu_," Tsubasa hissed, but it was too late. Kyoya could already hear the sound of Yu's booted steps bounding over to the side of the couch. He slit his eyes, previously closed, open, and Yu's cheerful, happy-go-lucky face popped in front of his vision. _Gahg_.

"It _is_! Ooh, and look, you've got the first-aid kit out. What kind of pickle did he get into this time?"

"_Yu_!" Tsubasa cried.

"Man, he looks like crap. What'd you do, Yo-Yo? Wrestle a bear?"

Kyoya just wanted to sleep. Not because he wanted to shut down—because he wanted to refresh. To let this day slip away from him and to awake renewed. He reached out with his bloody, mangled, and gauzed hand and gently tousled Yu's buttery-sunshine locks, like they were brothers. Yu was watching him like he'd just sprouted antennae and had asked fir a sample of his brain. But Kyoya just smiled, the drowsy haze of sleepiness starting to engulf him. He tucked his arm back under the blanket and cuddled it closer around his body, dipping his head into the pillow and closing his eyes.

The last voice he heard was Yu's: "What the frig is wrong with him?"

**A/N: Wow, this is a long chapter...holy crap :I *Hadn't intended for this***

** Thanks again for all of the lovely reviews regarding this story. I love you ALL, whether you review every chapter or stay silent and just read my words. Thank you :3**

** And just remember: If you're going through some really tough times and are thinking dark thoughts...just remember that it's going to be okay. It **_**will**_** get better, despite your doubts. There is much more to life than thinking about death. Just smile, even if it hurts. A little smile can go a long way.**

** You're perfect, just the way you are.**

** New chapter will be up soon. I know a lot of you are probably shaking the screen, wondering **_**what is going on**_**, LOL ;; It'll be revealed...soon enough -w-.**


	14. Chapter 14: A Twist In My Story

** A/N: Hey guys. I apologize sincerely if that last chapter was difficult for you to read—I know it was kind of a mess.**

** Secondly, if you're having a personal struggle, **_**any**_** struggle, and don't think you can talk to anyone, my door is always open. I will **_**not**_** judge you; I console a 12-year-old almost every other week, and know that even the tiniest of problems can make you feel like your life is an endless peril of nothingness. Just send me a private message, alright? I'm always free to talk. You can write ten paragraphs, each one as long as my arm, and I will still read them, word for word.**

** Because in a moment of despair, there is nothing worse than silence.**

** Okay. Now onto a more professional note, *laughs*. This is a BIG chapter. Because guess what? You're finally going to figure out what the hell is wrong with that bastard. Oh yeah, it's happening. o3o/**

** And if any of you can relate to what Ryuga is saying...you should **_**definitely**_** talk to **_**SOMEONE**_**. Anyone.**

** Chapter 14: **A Twist In My Story

**-Interlude-**

** (**_**March)**_

_"It wasn't my fault. He hurt me. It wasn't my fault. And I'm not going to let it kill me. I can grow."_

—_Speak__, Laurie Halse Anderson._

Winter came and went, a whirlwind of dreary skies and sheets of snow, sprinkling over the layers already there like sugar. For the first time in a handful of years, Kyoya participated in Christmas. Tsubasa was overjoyed with his new Tablet, and Yu was completely ecstatic when he tore off the candy cane themed wrapping paper to discover—surprise, surprise—a do-it-yourself ice cream making machine, and a couple gift cards to Coldstone tucked inside, too. He was so happy, he actually hugged Kyoya, who was taken aback but eventually gave him a gentle squeeze.

The year was still fairly new, but old enough for the excitement to die down. And, to everyone's relief, spring was just over the horizon. You could practically hear the cheers when the last strip of snow melted under the blazing sun.

Tsubasa refused to let Kyoya go back to his own apartment. Kyoya knew he was still a little freaked out over the incident, so he gave him an easy mind by staying at their apartment, and not hanging outside windows. He could see the relief on Tsubasa's face when he came home from errands to see Kyoya reading one of the paperbacks he'd received for Christmas, playing a card game, or wrestling in an all-out-war kind of battle with Yu over the remote to the new 50" flatscreen Tsubasa had finally gotten around to purchasing.

Truly, Kyoya was doing better. Not perfect, but somewhat better. He still had moments where he didn't want to crawl out of bed, just to lay down and cry a couple of tears. But at least he was eating, and sleeping normal hours. He made sure that whenever the sun was out, he opened the curtains as far as they could go, so he could let the sunshine refill him with much-needed happiness.

His new attitude could even be seen through his art. Tsubasa had discovered Kyoya's passion for drawing when he found a few crumpled-up pieces of notebook paper tucked behind the wastebasket, full of scribbled out sketches. Kyoya was, needless to say, startled when Tsubasa gave him a top-of-the-line, overpriced sketchbook for no particular reason one morning. It was the kind of sketchbook you found in the back of Barnes and Nobles, thick and durable, and also expensive as hell. Kyoya never said so, but he adored it. He drew in it constantly, the pages stuffed with both scribbles and sometimes detailed sketches. His style had changed dramatically; he focused more on drawing wildlife, on the human face, anything that came to mind. He was surprised, after losing himself for a few hours in a drawing, how much better he felt. It was as if he'd poured all of his frustrations, just by doing something he loved.

On a particularly warm day, the sun seeping in-between the blinds in the living room, for some bizarre reason Kyoya agreed to play a round of Monopoly with Yu when he asked. Tsubasa should've warned him. The little shit was _amazing_ at this game. Either that or Kyoya just really sucked. After only about a half hour, Yu had already purchased all the railroads and put houses on Boardwalk and Park Place, along with owning two of the three green properties, which were Kyoya's favorite.

"C'mon! I'll buy them off of you," he offered.

"Okay—for $1000," Yu said, crossing his arms.

"_What_?"

Insert evil little smirk here. "_Each_."

"You've lost your mind!" he exclaimed. He swiped North Carolina avenue from Yu's pile and shoved the back of the card in his nose, so he could clearly see the bold print. "The mortgage on this is only 150 bucks!"

"Oh c'mon, Yo-Yo, think realistically here!" He pushed Kyoya's hand away. "You can rent Mediterranean avenue for two bucks. What century do you _live in_?"

He tossed the property card in Yu's face, and it bounced off of his cheek. "Fine. Point made."

"Sweet," Yu cheered. "That being said, how about I buy Water Works off of you for, say...twenty?"

"_No_!"

Someone knocked on the door then. Tsubasa stood up from his seat on the couch, setting his newspaper aside, and went to answer it.

"Tsubasa!"

Kyoya's head whipped up. Sure enough, lo and behold, Ginga posed in the doorway, his crescent moon-smile out on display. He watched attentively, breaking his focus away from the game.

"Hi Ginga. Um..." Tsubasa looked cautious as Ginga let himself in, admiring all four corners of the living room. "Did you call?"

"Yeah. Like three times," he said.

Tsubasa pulled his Android out of his pocket and tapped the screen experimentally. "Hm. The battery must've died. Sorry, Ginga."

"'S Okay," Ginga shrugged off. His gaze wandered towards where the game was laid out, and his eyes fell on Kyoya. His honey eyes grew to baseball size at the sight of him, and his grin stretched cheek-to-cheek. "_Kyoya_? What're _you_ doing here?"

"Playing Monopoly," he mumbled. _And getting my ass kicked_. He moved his piece, the money bag, five spaces to prove his point.

"Hey Gingy!" Yu called to him, waving his hand eagerly.

"Hi Yu," he said back. He moved over to the couch and plopped down, resting his arms on the back of it. "I was wondering where you've been, Kyoya...I haven't heard from you in a while."

Kyoya said nothing and tugged at the hem of his pajama top.

"So, Ginga, did you...want something?" Tsubasa asked.

Ginga observed the game intently. Yu rolled a total of seven and got to pass 'Go'. "Actually, yeah," he said finally. "I'm here on behalf of Fae."

Yu brought his head up. "Fae?"

"Yeah. She finally got the grant and the green light to do a photoshoot about Beyblade. I was trying to call to see if you would help out."

Yu leapt to his feet and started bouncing on his heels. "_Awesome_!" he crowed. "I'm in! I'll go change!" He flew to his bedroom, abandoning the game. Kyoya cringed when the door slammed shut.

Ginga smiled—or rather, smiled wider. "We can always count on him, can't we?" He raised one lightning bolt-shaped eyebrow. "What about you, Kyoya?"

He shrugged, helping himself to Yu's stash of money. "I guess," he decided. "I mean, why not?" He tugged at the cuff of his baby-blue flannel pajamas thoughtfully. "It'd be nice to get out for once."

"He swiveled his head around to find Tsubasa. "Are you in, Tsubasa?"

He bobbed his head. "Sure. Let's do it."

/.../

The park was like one of those Photoshopped pictures of the Caribbean Islands you saw online, or in postcards. The grass was electric green and whispered underneath their feet, the trees blooming and dancing in the wind. Flowers peaked out from the earth, climbing steadily towards the sun. A fountain was at full blast, and two children were splashing in the water, giggling with glee, while their parents watched contently, hand in hand. _I wish I had a camera_, Kyoya thought, soaking it all in. He tucked his jacket tighter around himself as a chilly breeze swept through.

He could see some of the fellow bladers that he knew. Hyoma was chatting with Hikaru, and Madoka was sitting on a park bench, on that computer she never puts away, typing furiously. Kenta was sitting on the grass, watching the children play. He was shocked to see Dashan and the rest of Wang Hu Zhong accompanying him, all dressed in winter coats over their uniforms, even though the temperature was only a mild fifty degrees.

"GINGA!" A wild Masamune appeared and pounced on him, almost knocking the red-head over.

Ginga grinned and laughed, returning Masamune's death-grip hug, then shimmying his way out. "Hey man! Guess who I found at Tsubasa's place?" He swung his hands over in a "ta-da!" gesture towards Kyoya, who was fixated on his combat boots.

Masamune blinked. "_Kyoya_? Why were you at Tsubasa's place? I thought you were staying with Ryuga."

Before Kyoya could even think of how to respond, Yu crashed the party. "You were staying at _Ryuga's_?" he huffed. "What happened _there_?"

Everyone's attention was turned to him, waiting patiently for him to speak. He caught Tsubasa's eyes, who looked apologetic, as if he was sorry for him. "None of your business," he mumbled, kicking the ground. "Any of you."

"So that's why you're staying with us, huh? Because Ryuga couldn't stand you anymore?"

It's like he shot him through the heart with a nail gun. Kyoya couldn't remember if he'd ever said anything to him to ever make him deserve those hurtful words. He thought Yu flinched when Kyoya's head snapped up, and he knew why—it was because his blue eyes were glossy. "Whoa, whoa, wait...are you...you're not going to _cry_...are you...?"

He retreated back a couple of steps, still aware of the eight pairs of eyes locked onto him. He bit his lip to try to calm down. He whirled on his heel, muttering something like "try to find a bathroom", and stormed away.

Faintly, he could hear Yu start talking again. "What? What did I sa—_ouch_! Tsubasa, that hurt!"

"_Good_."

Kyoya shook his head, sending their voices flying into oblivion. _It's not like he knew_, his inner voice consoled him. _He's just a kid_.

He settled himself on a bench and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He thanked his lucky stars he was in such an immense place, so he didn't feel overwhelmed by the amount of people, or set like a bomb about to go off. He brushed his fingers against initials carved into the seat of the bench: _BG + MA_, a lopsided heart around it. _How did I get into this...?_ he mused, lazily tracing the heart, eyes occupied on the ground. _Maybe coming out today wasn't such a good idea. The apartment was nice and secure. I was away from everybody. Away from..._

Two black boots stepped into the square of grass he was focused on, startling him. His heard leaped straight off of the cliff of peacefulness, racing like a jackrabbit. His hands, resting beside him, clammed up in fear. _Those boots_.

"Hi."

Kyoya's answer was a nod—he didn't trust himself to speak.

"Can we...can we _please_ talk?" he pleaded.

"Isn't that what we're doing?" To his benefit, his voice didn't crack.

"_Alone_," he added. "Please? Just...just hear me out, and then I promise you'll never see me again. I'll leave you alone forever, if that's what you want. _Please_."

Kyoya glanced around the park: Kenta and Yu in a blissful conversation, happily tittering away. Hyoma and Madoka had started talking, with Hyoma telling a story with dramatic hand gestures. Ginga had walked over to greet Wang Hu Zhong. The only person who was watching was Tsubasa, even though Masamune was trying to grab his attention. He jerked his chin up for a gesture. _Go on_.

"Fine," he reluctantly agreed. _What's one more dagger in the heart_, he figured. He hoisted himself up, but never once looked up at his face, instead watching his shoes. He followed them as they turned and trudged towards the sheets of trees, dense and haunting.

They didn't stop in the neck of the woods, instead finding a scrawny dirt path, slithering between the trunks of the trees. Walking, walking, and just before Kyoya about started demanding what was up, the veil of a clearing grabbed his attention, and his mouth clamped shut. He weaved between the skimpy branches and broke into the light.

A secret garden. Miles and miles of stoned path snaked around another fountain, only this one more calm and relaxed. The place was booming with sakura blossom trees, so many it swallowed the garden in rosy pinks. The sunlight caused a glowing effect. Perched on a park bench was a man armed with his guitar, case opened at his feet pleadingly. The soft cadence of "Your Call", sung and played by the man, tied the beauty of the place together. _Forget the park_, Kyoya thought. _Holy crap_.

He saw the boots had left without him and instead rested on an orange gossamer bench, waiting patiently for him. He unwillingly joined him, leaving as much space between them as possible. They didn't talk for a while, and let the man's voice fill their ears.

Finally, Kyoya dared himself to look at Ryuga. He tried to be sneaky about it. He'd finally trimmed his hair, and was wearing a coat in the absence of his jacket, a scarf wrung casually around his neck. He still looked exhausted, deep black bruises apparent under his eyes. He watched as the breeze ruffled a blossom loose, and Ryuga reached up, cupping it in the palm of his hand. He looked away.

"You brought me here to talk," he said eventually. "So talk."

"How are you?"

He blinked. "Fine."

"Really," he murmured. "Are you eating enough?"

"Plenty," he sighed. "Can we get on with this? We don't have all day."

"I was trying to break the ice," he admitted, his voice sounding sad. "Alright, then. I don't know where to start."

"Start _somewhere_." He was growing impatient.

"Okay," he agreed. Another breeze rolled in, and Ryuga let the flower catch it, as it flew daintily through the air, like a balloon making it's way into the sky. "I'm sorry."

"That's a little overdue."

"I know. But needed."

Kyoya searched him carefully, trying to read his body language. "That can't be all," he persisted. "You said you wanted to explain."

Ryuga looked at him through his eyelashes. "I do."

"Well, you don't _have_ to," Kyoya growled, playing with a petal that had swept onto the seat beside him. "I already understand everything. You can quit pretending you care about me. I've accepted the fact that you moved on."

"No," Ryuga said, shaking his head. "That's not it at _all_ Kyoya. I've already told you—there's no one else that I love but you."

"If that's true," he said through clenched teeth, trying to remain calm. This was so _frustrating_. "Then what in the _fuck_ happened? Tell me that. Tell me why all of a sudden, I wasn't enough anymore. Why I was forced to lie in bed all day, crying a hole in my chest, wondering what the hell I did _wrong_?"

"Kyoya, you never did anything wrong. Please, it was me. I just...I can't seem to find the words to explain to break this...nicely."

They were face to face now, Kyoya scowling, Ryuga earnest. His eyes were like liquid gold, and Kyoya almost caved in; almost followed instinct and leaned forward, longing to come back to him, to remember those eyes again. "Break it nicely?" he snarled. "Nothing about this whole situation is _nice_."

Ryuga looked like he was torn in two. "I had no choice," he whispered. "It was for your safety."

"Well, that worked out _shitty_," Kyoya snapped, flashing back.

Immediately, and despite everything, he regretted saying that. Ryuga turned his head away, but Kyoya caught a glimpse at his face, and mentally kicked himself. After all, he'd put himself behind that; it wasn't fair to bring it up again. "S-sorry," he mumbled. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, I deserved it," Ryuga insisted, rubbing a hand over his face and peeking at the path below him through his fingers. He dropped his hand. "Kyoya, I _did_ lie to you. But not about what you think."

He waited, biting his tongue. But then it slipped. "What, then?"

"About...," he began, eyes fixated on his hands. "About how I realized...that I was gay."

Kyoya raised an eyebrow quizzically. "That?"

He nodded. "Renji had no part of it."

"Okay," he said. "What does that matter?"

"I realized it...I realized it the same night I lost my virginity."

Kyoya flinched, a cloak of ice enveloping him again. He turned his head away. "Look, I _really_ don't need to hear about all of the other guys who've you had a fuck with." He clenched his fist. "And I still don't see how this is vital to your case."

"Hear me out, okay?" he pleaded, eyes shut like he was concentrating. "It was...it was Doji."

Kyoya impulsively bolted to his feet, eyes squeezed shut. He couldn't look at him. "I really," he hissed, "did _not _need to hear that." This was a mistake. He should never have followed him. He turned on his heel and began to march away, but Ryuga snatched the back of his coat and tugged him backwards. Kyoya growled and ripped himself away, a scream building in his throat. "Don't _touch_ me!" he howled. The man with the guitar looked up, worried that a fight was brewing.

He was so furious, he was trembling, but he still wouldn't look at him. "Is that somehow supposed to make me _feel_ better?" he roared. "The knowledge that you lost your virginity to a worthless, depraved bastard like _him_? Did he fuck good? _DID HE_?!" He ripped at his hair, trying to lower his voice, but he was so infuriated that the sharp pain did nothing to help.

Ryuga grew defensive and bared his teeth. "It's not like I _wanted_ to lose it to him, you stubborn asshole, it was _TAKEN FROM ME_!"

Silence. Except for the gentle chords of the guitar, there was no other sound. Kyoya was stunned immobile. He finally opened his eyes, as the information sunk in and fell into place. A monstrous sensation of horror awoke in his stomach with a yawn. He slowly turned around and met Ryuga's eyes, lip trembling. "Wh-what...?"

He could tell Ryuga wanted to take it back, but it was too late. Ryuga groaned, stuffing his face in his hands. "...fucking great," he muttered. "Just great."

_It was taken from me_. As in, his virginity. As in, his innocence. Kyoya's eyes were burning, they were so wide. His hands fell from his head and lied limp by his side. He didn't know what to say to this. This...new information. He was in complete shock, and his legs were losing feeling. He cautiously crept back over to the bench and sat back down, close enough that their knees brushed against each other. He tentatively reached out for him, watching Ryuga collect himself, which seemed to be a struggle. "Ryuga..."

Ryuga took the outstretched hand and held it in both of his, rubbing along the curves. He took a few deep, shaky breaths through his nose. "Can I explain now?" he asked softly. Kyoya nodded.

"I'm pretty sure Ginga filled you in on everything that happened before the day we met," he began. "Me ransacking Koma Village and everything."

"Yes," he whispered.

"Good. I don't want to think about that, either," he said. "But...during the days of the Dark Nebula, I...I began to notice things about the way..._he _treated me, versus everyone else. He seemed to treat me nicer. Agreeing with my ideas...a rub on the shoulder...touches of..._affection_." He choked on the last word. His ocher eyes were a fiery inferno of rage. "I was called his little pet. Then...one day I was called into his room. He said he wanted to speak to me..._privately_." He swallowed. "He locked the door."

Kyoya thought he was going to be sick.

"That was the first night he molested me. And then...and then raped me," he whispered. "The first of many. He had me tied down and gagged so I wouldn't try to run or scream. I couldn't even _scream_." The grip on Kyoya's hand tightened. "The sick part was...while he was doing this to me, and my mind and heart were wretched in disgust...fear...misery...pure, utter _misery_...my body enjoyed it. It _enjoyed _it." His face twisted in revulsion. "My body _enjoyed_ having those things done to me. Through the horror, it loved being treated like that. It was sick. It was _so fucking sick_. There were countless amounts of times I thought about killing myself, but I was such a coward. I couldn't muster up the courage to _lift_ a knife, let alone slit my own throat with it.

"The Dark Power had me on a chain. And I let it. I let it treat me like a dog. I _let it_ take over me. Because under the control of the Dark Power, I forgot about the trauma that I encountered by a monster that I at first thought just saw some potential in me. That's single touch made my stomach twist, and want to throw up. I spent a lot of time screaming inside my head. Because not only had he taken my innocence—or what was left of it—but he had also taken my voice. He'd manipulated how I saw the world, and the ability to speak my mind. I couldn't tell anybody—what if he did more than just have his way with me this time? What if he tried to _kill me_?" He laughed hollowly. "Renji actually asked me once if something was wrong. I can't believe I didn't say something to him.

"After the Dark Nebula was vanquished, as you know, I overcame the Dark Power, because Doji was out of my life. He was supposed to be. I spent a lot of time training and overcoming it, like I was going through rehab. I actually went to a couple counseling sessions out of desperation, when it was really rough. She told me that no one can _steal_ your virginity from you; your virginity is something that you _offer _to somebody. It's a piece of you that you are giving away to somebody. But...as I told her...something that can be given away can surely be stolen, too. And he didn't just _steal_ it—he ripped it out of me. Stealing is taking it too lightly. How is _she _supposed to understand what it was...what it was _like_?" He bit his lip, his hands trembling. "To be treated like someone's fuck-bag just for their own twisted _pleasure_? To be totally warped, and not know what is right and wrong anymore? To fear the slightest touch?"

He flipped Kyoya's hand over, tracing the lines on his palm. "I spent a lot of time training in solitude, recovering. Regaining myself, or what was left of me. It was hard to find, buried deep inside of me. By the time Hyoma found me, I had not only overcome the Dark Power...but also almost all of my mortification. Because up there in the volcano, free to do whatever I wished, I kept thinking about you."

Kyoya blinked, his cheeks heating a few degrees warmer. "Me?" he croaked.

Ryuga managed to smile. "Yeah. When I first saw you, I thought, 'there's a guy that might understand what I'm going through. He looks like he's been through Hell and back again'. It didn't help by the fact that your very presence took my breath away. It was like love at first sight," he admitted, not at all bashful. "I kept thinking, sometimes, when I was awake and helpless...that _you_ were the person that I wanted to make love to. Not just fuck—_make love_.

"Anyway...," he continued. "I was wrong about Doji being out of my life. You can never erase the past; there's always faint lines left. The reason I went out that night was because I was putting your name on the lease," he explained. "And I also wanted to make a will. Everything I own, in case the unthinkable happened...would go to you."

Kyoya was so touched he didn't know what to do. He ducked his head nervously.

"When I walked out of the attorney's office..._he_ was waiting for me. He had found me, at last, after all this time that I thought I was far, far away from him. He looked like shit, if that counts for anything." His hands clenched tighter around Kyoya's for support. "He said that he wasn't after my body this time. He was rather furious about me abandoning him when the Dark Nebula collapsed, and had been searching for a way to make me pay for it. Then he said that he'd found it."

Ryuga suddenly dug into his coat pocket and pulled a slip of paper out from it. "He had this," he said.

Kyoya took it, then grinned. It was the pictures of them in the photobooth, kissing happily. The Cookie Monster cap on Kyoya's head was sinking low over his eyes, but not enough to hide the corners of his obvious smile.

Ryuga smiled a little. "I've been keeping that in my pocket. It's the only picture I have of you," he said, but then bit his lip. "Doji made a threat that day...if I didn't break your heart..._he'd_ break you."

Kyoya's head snapped up, blushing with anger. What had Ryuga said that day at the mall? _Camera's aren't going to hurt you..._What a wicked twist fate had played on those words. Now it made sense. "Ryuga..." he whispered again.

"I would rather _die_ than have to have you go through the same living hell that I did," he proclaimed, catching Kyoya's eyes and boring his into them. "I couldn't put you through that kind of torture. I could never live with myself. It was _maddening_ having to go back home, knowing that I would only have hours with you left. I was torn in two—but eventually, I put your safety over my happiness. However..." He looked down at the puckered scars still apparent, never fully healed, on Kyoya's palms, and traced over them. "It backfired. I should've told you the truth, but..."

Kyoya knew. If Ryuga had told him about the situation, Kyoya would've taken the risk and stayed with him. No matter what, no question about it.

The guitar man ended his song and started into a new one, a Mayday Parade song. They stayed silent for a while, listening to his haunting voice sweep the melody into their ears. Then Ryuga stood up, gently letting go of his hands. "Thank you for listening," he whispered. "Now that you've heard the truth...it's your choice of which path you want to follow. I should never have made that decision for you." Then he kissed Kyoya's forehead, lingering his lips there for a beat too long, taking in the smell of him. He turned and disappeared into the woods.

Kyoya sat there, shell-shocked. _Did that just happen_? he wondered. He stared at the trees, where Ryuga had vanished. Then he gazed at his hands, still inflamed by the crossroads of scars. He was having a hard time processing all of this..._Doji...Doji and Ryuga..._A video clip flashed across his mind, and he cried out, clapping a hand over his mouth. He swallowed down upcoming bile. _No No Nonono. Don't think about it, DON'T_. He shook his head like a wet dog. _Stop thinking about it, just STOP_. He dropped his hand when he was sure he was okay.

He had never been more disgusted with any creature in his life. And to think he had once stood before this beast, his cockiness taking the better of him, convinced that the man standing before him was nothing more than an arrogant son of a bitch. He had never realized that, as twisted as he was...that he would ever be such a despicable _monster_ and corrupt a person so special as Ryuga.

_Ryuga_. That day when Ryuga split them up, his reaction had only made it worse on him, going through enough hell as it was. He had only seen the text, not the fine print. He should've known better, taken their experiences together and realize...that something was wrong, but it wasn't with Ryuga. No. He should've stayed, should've defied his words and shook the truth out of him. He should've, but all he could hear that day was the sound of his own heart breaking.

_"It's your choice now."_ Kyoya sat straighter, realizing that he was still sitting. What was he _doing_?!

"_Fuck_," he hissed, and jumped to his feet. Did Ryuga honestly think he would choose anyone other than him? They were both idiots. But they were each other's idiots. Forever.

He had to find him.

He stole one last glance over at the man with the guitar, still pouring his heart out and strumming away. Without even thinking about it, Kyoya headed over, dumping a wad of twenties into his case at his feet. The man was so stunned, he stopped playing. "Wh-what are you...?" he sputtered.

"Great service demands great pay," Kyoya said. "Take your girl out on a nice date, okay? Treat her like a princess. She deserves it."

The man blinked. Then his face broke into a smile. "Thanks, man."

Kyoya nodded and whirled on his heel, running as fast as his legs could carry him.

/.../

When he cleared the trees, he was almost plowed over by two kids playing tag and just barely dodged out of the way. He saw that the shoot was in full swing, Masamune and Ginga in a practice battle. _I really don't see the point in this,_ he admitted to himself.

His eyes searched the park frantically for any sign of him, but came up empty. Inside his chest, his heart drowned. There was no sign of anyone with the white inferno of hair. He felt himself begin to panic, afraid he'd lost him forever. He wished more than ever for Ryuga to be here, to calm him down.

"Kyoya? There you are!"

Kyoya had a mini heart attack before realizing the voice was female and belonged to Fae. His heart sunk back down to its depths of despair while he watched Fae jog up to him.

"I've been looking all over for you," she breathed, brushing a piece of hair out of her eyes. "It's nice to finally meet you, officially."

He nodded. "Hi, Mrs. Hagane."

She smiled, cheeks rosy with blush. He admired how that despite being makeup-less and in a tank top and jeans, she was still a knockout. "Oh, you can call me Fae. I just wanted to ask if you're doing okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Ginga's been telling me you seemed ill," she explained. She reached out to feel his forehead, and Kyoya recoiled by instinct.

"It-it's none of your business," he said. "So don't worry about it."

She dropped her hand, frowning. "Kyoya, it doesn't _need _to be someone's business for that person to care. Look around you. Do you think any of these people _have _to be here? It's not there problem, it's mine. But they came here because they wanted to be here, because they care about Ginga, who cares about me. You see?"

He blinked, a little rattled. "Um..."

"People _do_ care about you, Kyoya," she insisted, squeezing his shoulder. It was as if she was aware of all of his personal struggles. "Okay? Ginga and Hyoma, and Tsubasa—"

"—And Ryuga," he whispered.

She nodded, eyes sparkling. "Yes, Ryuga too. Although he is an odd one. I was surprised that he showed up."

"Is he still here?" he asked tentatively, hanging onto his last cliff of hope.

She pointed towards the fountain. "He's sitting right there."

He was. Kyoya's heart propelled up to his throat, his hands beginning to clam up. He was sitting on the fountain barrier, his back to him, watching the battle without much interest. He watched as he stood and stretched his arms above his head, his back arching with the effort. _Ready, set, go. Now or never._

Calling a thank you to Fae over his shoulder, he barreled clear across the park, feet digging into the dirt with so much momentum he dug wildflowers out of the ground. He caught his arm just as he was about to walk away, and whirled him around. He managed to catch Ryuga's look of surprise and sacrifice a quick smile before he yanked him forward and smashed their lips together.

It was a scene straight out of a move, a snippet of a romance novel. The timing, the relapse of happiness that Kyoya felt as everything finally was put back together, each piece fitting perfectly into place. He could hear the collective gasps over the blood pounding in his ears, some cries of confusion, and a couple cat-calls, courtesy of Tsubasa. He didn't may any attention to them, even as camera flashes popped like crazy—_Breaking news, Kyoya Tategami is in love_—and focused only on Ryuga, who was kissing him back like there was no tomorrow, clutching him like he was his lifeline.

Eventually they had to pull back; even with the breath he'd stolen from Ryuga, he was still panting. Ryuga looked elated. "So, you've made your choice?" he asked.

Kyoya shook his head. "I never considered another one," he told him.

**A/N: ...dude, I read like **_**waaayyyyy **_**too many Sarah Dessen novels, HEH ;;**

** Ah, it feels good to write about happiness again. Writing about happiness makes a person happy o7o/ HOORAY!**

** So now they're back together, oh yay. -w- That's still not the end, though. There's still a lot to come.**

** So...have any strong words for our friend Doji? :B**

** OH! And another thing: I have another MFB fanfiction being processed. I haven't gotten around to actually **_**writing**_** it, but it's sitting in my head. I'm thinking it's going to be KyoyaxNile, because we haven't seen much of that little fuck in this story (although he'll appear later.) That was the plan, and I don't know when I'll get to it, considering I'm busy with a lot of personal projects...but it's in the making :3**

** It's going to be **_**very**_** different from this story, heh.**

** Also, I'm curious: What're some of your favorite pairings? -w- Please tell meh :3**

** See you next chapter, my lovelies c:**


	15. Chapter 15: Fluff 'n' Stuff

**A/N: 'Sup there, guys -w-.**

** Alright, I got a question regarding the KyoyaxNile fic, so I'll draw it out for you owo/**

** I was going to Nile being a young writer, working at a café part time and also attending public school as a senior. Then Kyoya wanders into his life by chance, and an awkward start of a relationship begins, challenged by prejudice, doubt, and personal demons. They say that young love is naive, but who says it never lasts?**

** So yeah, that's how it's gonna go down Cx**

** Here's your next chapter! It's short, but I know you guys are on a withdrawal of RyuKyo cuteness :U**

** Chapter 15: **Fluff 'n' Stuff

"Since when do you like _Ellie Goulding_?" Ryuga asked. He was scrolling through Kyoya's iPod, stopping variously to question Kyoya's music taste. This one had obviously stumped him; he looked like someone had told him Elvis was a politician.

"Hey," Kyoya set the box he was carrying down on the floor and struggled for his iPod back. "What's wrong with Ellie Goulding?"

Ryuga kept his grip firm and raised an eyebrow at him. "Kyoya," he said like he was addressing someone extremely thick, "you're wearing a Suicide Silence t-shirt."

Kyoya looked down at his shirt, as if he'd forgotten which one he was wearing. He pressed his lips together. "So?" he challenged, finally managing to steal his iPod back and stuffing it in his front pocket. Truth be told, he'd heard about her from Tsubasa. He downloaded her latest album and lied down to listen to it, and ended up drifting to sleep, overtaken by her sweet, angelic voice.

He lifted the box back up and dumped it into Ryuga's arms. "Now get back to work," he commanded. "We still have a lot of boxes left."

"But _Kyoya_," Ryuga pretended to whine.

"I told you you'd have to help," he teased, and reached up on his tiptoes and kissed him lightly. In the last few months Ryuga had grown at least three inches, as if he wasn't tall enough, and Kyoya was still getting used to it. He plopped another box on top of the other, forcing him to readjust. "So help," he added.

When he turned to open a box marked "miscellaneous", he heard a soft _thunk_ and Ryuga snatched him around the waist, dragging him back to him. Kyoya cried out, squirming in Ryuga's vice-tight embrace. "Aggh! Ryuga, let me go!"

"_Never_!" he declared. He hoisted Kyoya up, tossed him over his shoulder and marched over to the couch, Kyoya kicking the whole way.

Ryuga dropped on the couch, still coddling him. "Let's take a break," he suggested.

Kyoya frowned. "But—"

"_Kyoya_." He stopped him with a kiss. Kyoya smiled into it, tugging on the collar of his t-shirt to bring him closer. He'd missed this so much—being with him. And with all of their cards out on the table, he felt more connected to him than ever before. _**Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same...**_

__Ryuga pulled back, and Kyoya rested his head on his chest, faintly hearing Ryuga's heart. "I missed you," he confessed. "Like crazy."

"I missed you too."

Kyoya chuckled. "It's still weird that now everyone knows."

"Tell me about it. I thought Masamune had a heart attack."

Kyoya smiled again. His attention caught a box sitting on the coffee table, and he reached out for it.

"Do you not understand the concept of 'taking a break'?" Ryuga asked.

"Hold on," he commanded, straining his arm. He finally caught the flap and pulled, and the box came crashing to the floor. He opened it one-handed and pulled out a thick red novel.

Ryuga looked at it. "What's that?"

He held it up, flashing the title. "_Dracula_," he declared.

Ryuga grinned.

/.../

Later that day, when Ryuga had jumped in the shower, Kyoya had finally moved all of his things inside. He even arranged his books alphabetically by author to pass the time. He didn't have much to bring; it was mostly clothes and some personal items that he didn't want to leave behind, like CD's and stuff. Everything else had been donated to the Goodwill for quick cash.

Leone pranced by, spotted Kyoya sitting on the couch, and greeted him by marking his foot, purring loudly. "Hey boy," Kyoya said, bending down to rub his chin. "Did you miss me, too?" A meow was the response.

Glancing at the clock, he decided he should probably check the mail, or just do _something_ until Ryuga was out of the shower. He'd wanted to join him, but Ryuga had said that "getting _dirty_ kind of misses the point of taking a shower", leaving Kyoya dry and bored. He picked Leone up and placed him on a blanket, then headed outside to the mailbox.

He breathed in the warm fresh air happily. April was around the corner, as was Easter. He was never much for the cold, and was glad for the warming temperatures. He made a mental note that he should take advantage of this weather, while it was still dry, and put some time aside to train. Hell, enter a _tournament_, for fuck's sake. He hadn't battled in forever, and his muscles ached with the need. He fantasized of strategies while he reached the mailbox and collected the bundle of envelopes within.

He flipped through them absentmindedly while he trekked back up to the house. _Bill, bill, spam, spam, shit, shit_...He stopped dead in his tracks when he reached a shiny, sky-blue card, decorated with shimmering stars. No envelope. It was addressed to Kyoya Tategami, from Sacred Heart Academy.

_What the fuck_...His eyes scrambled over it. "How did they..."

He'd dropped out of school years ago, the same time he ran away from home, although he was closer to being expelled. He'd been skipping a lot of his classes and hiding behind the bleachers, ignoring his classwork and instead drowning the world out with his headphones. He thought the principal was actually delighted when he announced that he wouldn't be seeing him next year, and that he was leaving and never coming back as long as he lived. Yet there it was, a friendly little invitation, reminding him of the date as if he'd never late. _How did they know where I was_?

A thought struck him like lightning, and an evil grin stretched across his face. He had an idea—why not take advantage of this opportunity? He had a bone or two to pick with some of the student body. He rushed back inside to get Ryuga, whether he was ready or not.

**A/N: Yes, short chapter, I know -w-'**

** Oh my, what's that invitation about? :U *thinks it's pretty obvious, but I don't know.***

** Thanks for reading :3**


	16. Chapter 16: Sticks and Stones

**A/N: Enjoy, you epic fucks o7o**

** Chapter 16: **Sticks and Stones

"I don't know, Ryuga. Maybe we shouldn't do this."

"It was _your_ idea."

"Yeah, but...I'm starting to second-guess it."

Ryuga finally found a parking space and pulled in, shifting it into park. He slumped back in his seat and looked at him. "So do you want to do this or not?"

Kyoya swallowed as he watched couples pile in though the doors, dressed in tuxes and brightly colored dresses, sparkling at this late hour. The building was illuminated with a bazillion lights, twinkling like the stars above. "I don't know..." He played with the cuff of his tuxedo. "I don't know how I feel about being back here. I thought I could handle it, but maybe I can't."

Ryuga took a hold of his chin and turned him towards him. "I know how you feel about your old school, and crowds. But I've got your back with this, okay? I'll be right here with you." He leaned in and kissed him tenderly, and Kyoya felt himself breathe easier, letting himself melt into him. He could stay there, kissing him all night. But he had to do this.

He had to show these depraved bastards they couldn't tear him down anymore. That he'd finally sewed himself back together.

He pulled away and took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "Let's crash a prom."  
Ryuga smiled.

They hopped out of the car and headed up to the front doors, Kyoya's strides a little longer than usual. He felt a swarm of bees buzz around in his stomach as Ryuga held the door open for him.

The halls, so ominous in his memory, where flooded with big, bushy bouquets of blue and white balloons and streamers of silver tinsel. The traffic in the halls was jammed, couples with interlocked elbows stuffing them to near explosion. A ring of laughter shook the air, and he flinched instinctively.

It was bizarre to be back here, like he'd stepped through a wormhole and found himself in another dimension. The place hadn't changed much, besides looking like a party store had triplets and had joined together for a family reunion. The lockers were still painted the same tedious green, the floor coated in faint trails of dirt and occasional puffs of glitter. The same posters cheering for the same crappy football team. The same overly-motivational bulletins on the corkboard near the office. The irony was so thick, you could cut it with a knife; it seemed as if the school had remained the same all of this time, not changing, not moving forward, when Kyoya had traveled a road of a thousand miles, full of pot-holes and black ice, just to be here at this exact moment.

He paused outside of a familiar white-on-white door and ogled. He then ushered Ryuga close, as if he had something extremely significant to tell him. When he was in ear-shot, he waved towards the door with fake delight. "Here's where I didn't learn biology."

Ryuga laughed loudly and pulled him away before he could vandalize public property. They dived into the sea of people, Ryuga leading Kyoya towards the blaring K-pop music coming from the gym. Their pinkies clasped together tightly, locked and never to ever again break apart. He held onto him tight as they weaved through the forest of bodies, because he knew if he lost him he'd lose himself. Nobody paid attention to them; they were vapor. Kyoya held onto that.

They finally reached the gymnasium and stood before it, watching the couples inside whirl around to the flow of the music and the colored lights bounce around like lightening bolts. Ryuga gave their enjoined pinkies a gentle squeeze. "You can do this," he counseled. "I know you can."

Kyoya believed him. So he took a deep breath and lunged through.

It was in full swing, huddles of people jumping around underneath the disco ball, and some stood on standby, gorging themselves with finger-food. The music was fast and upbeat, swallowing all other noise with its hectic acoustics. Kyoya bit his lip nervously, but then stood taller when the current song came to a close and a new one played, this one edgier with a pounding beat. _This song_. He spun back around to look at Ryuga. "I _love_ this song," he enthused.

Ryuga paused to listen to it, then frowned. "This is P!nk."

"Oh come _on_," he persisted, pulling him into the middle of the dance floor. What did the music matter? This was supposed to be a night to remember. His night of nights. And he was going to dance to this fucking song until his knees gave out and he collapsed onto a wasted drunk that didn't even recognize his face.

He danced. And danced. Ryuga just watched him, amused as Kyoya flowed with the music, letting himself go just a bit. He frowned when he saw Ryuga's motionless stance and yanked him by the sleeves of his tuxedo forward, close enough for their bodies to just brush against each other's. He swayed against him, sinking to a crouch and back up again, hoping Ryuga would get the idea. That playful smirk on his face proved him right.

He leaned close to his lips, not enough for them to touch, but enough that electricity ricochet back and forth between them. "_Why so serious_?" he murmured along to the soulful voice whirring around their ears.

So Ryuga rolled his eyes into the back of his head and gradually began to move along with him, their bodies perfectly aligned and their eyes interlocked; a conversation without words. The rest of the world faded away—all that was left was him, Ryuga, and Alecia Moore's voice that pumped the voltage through their veins and commanded for them to move. He didn't give a flying fuck about anyone else around him; not the girls ogling at them from afar, vigorously hopping on their feet, or the curious—and somewhat wary—faculty lingering on the sidelines, wondering if such obscene acts should be broken up or if they were only tip-toeing on the border line of explicit content.

As the final chorus came to an end, and Kyoya was in the middle of a turn, Ryuga reeled his arm in and grabbed his, leading him out towards the food table. "Hey," he complained. "I was having fun."

"Look," Ryuga said, and plucked a chocolate-covered strawberry from its perch of many others, holding it up to Kyoya's lips.

Kyoya watched it. "Do you get off on feeding me?" he asked humorously.

"No," he declined, yet still insisted: "_Open_."

He did, biting the delicate skin and slowly, _slowly_ chewing it, watching Ryuga the entire time. _This chocolate is really rich_, he thought. He licked the juice off of his lips and raised an eyebrow. "Happy now?" He felt like he'd been here before.

"Quite," Ryuga agreed, popping the rest of the strawberry in his mouth.

Kyoya was about to say something, perhaps a witty comeback about Ryuga's kinkiness, when they were intervened.

"_Tategami_? Is that _you_?" Three guys approached them, all decked in identical tuxes, one chewing a pig-in-a-blanket, another drinking a soda. The leader of the pack, the one that had spoken, was staring at him with round hazel eyes like he was seeing a ghost.

Kyoya frowned and narrowed his eyes. That particular shade of hazel seemed..._eerily _familiar. He racked his brain while trying to come up with an intelligent answer. "Yes...?"

"Dude! It's me—Dylan Aeschilman? And Diego Martinez and Brayden Mathers?" He gestured to Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Doo, who were staring dumbly out to the dance floor.

Kyoya felt a chill go through him as he recalled the name, and drew back a step. It was_ him_. The one who had locked him in a janitor's closet and played Freddy Krueger to his face with a pair of scissors. He felt the panic build in his stomach, like a volcano about to erupt. "D-Dylan..."

"It really is you, holy shit!" He walked toward him, and Kyoya's hand flashed to his bey case, fearing the worst, but it was unneeded. He was pulled into one of those classic pat-on-the-back bro hug things. Kyoya didn't even twitch. He stood like a statue.

"Wow...I haven't seen you in years!" his former tormenter declared. He pulled back with a mile-wide grin, like they were old pals. "Where did you _go_? You dropped out, right? Why are you back here, then?"

So many questions, so little breath to answer them. "Um...yeah...I dropped out...uh, well..."

Dylan caught Ryuga's watchful gaze and locked his focus to him, acknowledging his presence for the very first time. "Oh hey. _You_ I don't recognize...do you go here? I'm Dylan," he said, and held out a hand for him to shake.

Ryuga didn't take it. He was watching Kyoya for any cues on what he should do, or to see if he was uncomfortable and should do something about it. "Ryuga," he said eventually.

Dylan dropped his arm awkwardly. "Okay then." He happily focused back on Kyoya. "So what brings you here?" he asked brightly.

"We're crashing...thought I'd see this stupid place one more time," Kyoya said slowly, watching Ryuga munch on another strawberry, communicating through eye gestures. He threw him one that said, _Get over here. It's okay._

Dylan's eyes snapped back and forth between the two of them confusedly. Kyoya could almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he put the pieces together, and see the lightbulb illuminate above his head when he finally understood. "_We_. Oh, so you two came together?" He gestured lazily towards Ryuga, who was making his way over to Kyoya's side, slinking like a cat.

"He's my boyfriend," Kyoya proclaimed.

Diego choked on his drink, sending a spray of water out of his mouth. Breyden recoiled, leaping back and out of the line of fire. All Dylan said was "Oh." His cheeks decorated scarlet, and he was finding something tasty in his lip.

"Is there a problem with that...?" Kyoya demanded, watching them intently and doing his best not to shuffle his feet or stare at the floor.

"No, no, I—um..." Dylan glanced backwards at his cohorts for support, but they were too busy eyeballing Ryuga, who was snarling like he wanted a bite of their heads.

Ryuga ducked his head down to Kyoya's ear. "Do you want me to get a drink or something?"

"For your benefit, yes," he whispered back. He pecked him on the lips, and Ryuga kissed his forehead. He watched his back all the way to the cooler.

"Well then," Dylan said, clearing his throat. He leaned his hand on the food table. "Um...how long have you guys been...?"

He could tell he was trying to act casual about this, and for his benefit played along. "Eight months," he said. He'd decided to blur out the whole breakup incident—it was insignificant now. He nibbled on a cracker idly, watching his face, which turned from cherry to burgundy.

"Wow...c-congrats."

"Thanks, I guess. It doesn't bother you or anything?"

"Why would it bother me?"  
"Oh, I don't know." He shrugged his shoulders sarcastically. "It might be because you made my life a living hell for three years, and had good fun teasing me about being queer. Well, guess what? Turns out you were right. I'm as queer as it gets." He didn't know where all of this malice was spewing from, but he liked it. He was finally facing one of his demons. He gave a determined munch to his cracker.

Dylan frowned. "Kyoya...that was middle school stuff."

"Does it _matter_?" he demanded. He pointed to his face. "You still _attacked_ me; with a pair of _scissors_, for fuck's sake!" He stabbed his finger at Breyden, who was still nibbling on his delicacy. "And he accompanied you, right? It was him."

Diego whipped his head between the both of them. "Dude—you attacked Tategami?"

"Th-that was years ago!" Dylan retorted. "And like you weren't a big asshole in middle school, too."

"I never _attacked_ anybody, _for fucking crying out loud_."

"It doesn't matter!" Kyoya felt himself yelling. "You were one of the guys that filled my locker with pig guts, weren't you? Like _that_ didn't scar me from the inside out? It was like a _Carrie _sequel!"

Diego flushed and fixed his eyes on his loafers.

"Kyoya..." He turned his head back to Dylan, who was looking at him solemnly. "Please. We all feel like shit for what we did to you. I kick myself every time, because I was such a fucking _jack ass_, and—" He sighed heavily, shoulders shaking. "Look, I'm really, _really_ sorry. All of us."

Kyoya bored his eyes into him, trying to see through him. See through the way his eyebrows were arched, his shoulders hunched, his eyes wide in apologetic sincerity. He felt the anger deflate in him like air from a helium balloon. "Fine. I forgive you. I don't _like_ you," he added when they started to smile, "but I forgive you. Kind of."

Dylan still beamed like he'd won a million dollars. "I'll take it. So do you want to go dance? I think _Thriller_ is about to come on—do you know the moves?"

He smirked. "Are you _kidding_? I'm the master."

/.../

Kyoya fell under the pulse of the music, hypnotizing him to dance. He danced to every song he hated, songs he loved, and ones he didn't even understand. He danced with strangers, because honestly, _who gave a fuck anyway? _He dragged Ryuga, who was being a wallflower, into the waves, and together the two moved until their knees buckled, their lungs almost collapsing.

The youth of the night was aging, the dust settling, and people were getting tired. Kyoya watched as Ryuga spoke something hush-hush to the DJ, who nodded. The current song, pounding with enthusiasm, died mid-beat. The opening guitar chords replaced them, and an aura of calm fell over the room. a slow song. Kyoya raised one eyebrow at Ryuga as he waltzed over, offering his hand. "You like the Red Jumpsuit Apparatus?" he asked, taking it.

Ryuga pulled him close, so close their noses brushed against each other. Their lips only an inch away. "I like this song," he said. "It reminds me of someone." He slid one hand to Kyoya's waist, hinting who "someone" was. Kyoya smiled, a little timid, and rested his cheek against Ryuga's chest.

"_When I see your smile, tears roll down my face. I can't replace..._

"_And now that I'm strong I have figured out how this world turns cold and it breaks through my soul, and I know I'll find deep inside me, I can be the one._

"_I will never let you fall, I'll stand up with you forever. I'll be there for you through it all, even if saving you sends me to Heaven._"

"I love you," Kyoya whispered.

Ryuga bent his head down, meeting Kyoya's lips with his. Tender, soft, slow...right underneath the strobe lights. "I love you, too."

**A/N: Ah, prom...*stares out the window*.**

** Thanks again you guys. I also want to say this: FIFTY. THIS STORY HAS OVER FIFTY REVIEWS AND LIKE IT'S STILL NOT CLOSE TO BEING DONE OH MY GOSH ;w; I LOVE YOU FUCKS SO MUCH.**

** And also: In case any of you are unaware, Alecia Moore is P!nk's birth name :3**

** Songs Mentioned:**

** "Raise Your Glass"—P!nk watch?v=gHtms9voyEg**

** "Your Guardian Angel"—The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus watch?v=jRehmX3zlwE**


	17. Chapter 17: The Rhythm of Love

** A/N: Mm-kay. New chapter is up, for all of you lovely things :3**

** Chapter 17: **The Rhythm of Love

The song goes, "party like it's not your birthday", correct?

But what if it _is_ your birthday? Then what the hell do you do?

When Kyoya asked Ryuga this while they were raveled together on the couch, all Ryuga had to answer with was a laugh. "I don't know," he admitted, ruffling his already untidy hair. "I suppose we could do _something_ else..."

The emphasis on the "something" made Kyoya's insides tingle. "I like the sound of that," he agreed.

A wild Nile popped up from behind the couch. "Get a room, you two," he groused, resting his elbows on the back of the sofa and glaring.

Kyoya rolled his eyes. "Hello, Nile."

"This _is _our house, you know. We can do whatever the fuck we want," Ryuga informed him, as if he was unaware.

"Oh, right." Nile added a sarcastic eye roll and an over-emphasized thump on the forehead. "Must've slipped my mind. _Or something_."

"Nile," Kyoya cautioned.

"_Seriously_. I'm gone for like, what—half of a year, and I miss ten of them." He threw his arms up. "I get back and you two are _together_? I mean, what did I _miss_? Next you'll be saying Kenta shaved half of his head and started smoking cigarettes."

"Well."

"_No_." Nile's jaw fell open, his emerald eyes the size of flying saucers. "He really—" But he immediately frowned when he saw the two of them start chortling to themselves, boiling like a potion from a cauldron. "Not _funny_, you guys. Jesus."

"You're too gullible!" Kyoya howled, falling back onto Ryuga's chest, who enveloped him in an embrace while he, too, cackled like a hyena. The image of sweet little Kenta suddenly bearing the resemblance of a thug was too much for them to handle.

"I hate you both," Nile pouted, turning his head away.

"Oh, you love me and you know it." Kyoya grappled for Nile's arm, quick as lightning, and yanked him over the back of the couch, sending him crashing onto the two of them.

Nile cried out in surprise. "Aggh! Kyoya, let me go!"

"NEVER!" he crowed, nooging his chocolate-brown haired head.

"Can I at least get _up_?" Ryuga asked from behind Nile's foot. He managed to slip out and disappeared into the kitchen, on a mission for more cake.

Kyoya snickered, kissed Nile's temple, then pushed him away, still leering like an evil mastermind. Nile whipped his head about, sending his already unsettled hair into an even bigger rat's nest. He smoothed it out gingerly, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. "When the hell did you get so _affectionate_?" he demanded. "The Kyoya I knew wouldn't touch anyone without implying violence, much less _kiss_ anyone."

Kyoya took this question seriously, lounging into the arm of the chair and tugging at his Mitch Lucker memorial shirt. "It's weird, isn't it?" he said. "I don't even recognize the person I used to be. I guess...I guess I was just living underneath this blanket of darkness for so long, and then finally someone pulled it off of me, showing me the sunlight." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "I had my heart locked up so tight, and then finally someone found the key and opened me up. It's not such a bad world."

Nile blinked, staring at him hard. "You really _are_ off your rocker, aren't you?"

Kyoya scoffed and chucked the pillow near him at his face. "Shut up! Or I'll send your ass back to Egypt."

Nile caught the pillow, then hugged it. "It's not like it's a bad thing," he said. "I can tell...you're much happier, Kyoya. And as a friend, that makes me happy. This is going to sound _extremely _corny, but you two just...complete each other."

Kyoya smiled softly and nodded. "You're right."

Nile grinned.

"That _did_ sound corny," Kyoya mused, wiggling his eyebrows. Nile hurled his clutched billow back at him, and it slammed against Kyoya's nose. He laughed while pulling it off of him and lying it back in his lap.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, "but I am glad you're back."

Nile smiled. "Yeah. Me too."

"KYOYA!" Madoka flashed out from the kitchen, waving him forward. "Come open your presents."

"Alright," he agreed, bouncing off the couch and towards the kitchen, with Nile right behind.

It's been the shock of his life, returning from a breakfast at IHop with Ryuga to discover all of his friends lying in waiting, then leaping out with an ear-splitting "SURPRISE!". He'd almost punched Ginga, who was closest to him, while leaping back and swearing like a sailor. Then he saw the lion-shaped cake in Benkei's hands and knew: surprise birthday party.

He'd whirled around to playfully yell at Ryuga, because he knew he must be the cause of all of this. He was shocked that Ryuga had even thrown the party at all; he wasn't much for social gatherings, just like him. Ryuga had just pulled him forward and kissed him, earning a couple "Awww"'s and a few "Ewww"'s. Then Ryuga had whispered those words: _happy birthday_.

Now, he was staring at a mountain of gifts collected on the countertop. He moved aside a plate of cake to reach for the first one, all eyes on him like this was the most interesting thing that they'd seen all day. He had his eyes locked on a big, shiny red one, the one he knew was Ryuga's. But before he could even hold it, Ryuga dragged it away. "Nuh-uh. Mine's last," he said.

Kyoya frowned and stretched his arms farther, a silent demand. Ryuga shook his head. _No_. Kyoya sighed, giving up, and plopped his hands down. He moved to another one, which was yellow and cushiony, and the tag said it was from Benkei. He smiled closed-mouth at his old friend, and sliced it open.

At the sight of the shiny black fabric, he inhaled a gasp. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed, unfolding a brand-new leather jacket. He traced the curvature of the collar in amazement, then looked back up at the giver. "Thanks, Benkei."

Benkei turned on his bazillion-watt smile. "You're welcome, Kyoya-pal!"

"Try it on," Tsubasa piped in for the first time, setting down his glass of iced tea and moving closer for a better look. Kyoya stood up and slipped his arms through the sleeves, allowing everyone to _ooh_ and _ahh_. It was a little big on him, but he'd grow into it. Hopefully.

He sat back down and unwrapped the rest of the presents. A laptop from Tsubasa, bey-cleaning equipment from Madoka, iTunes gift cards galore, and a fuzzy, black-and-gray-striped scarf that Kyoya ended up wrapping around Ginga's face like a mummy's. They all got a good laugh with that one.

Yu got him a pair of Vans, which fit him perfectly. Nile and Demure had tag-teamed on an iHome. All of these gifts, just for him. They didn't have to. They really didn't. But as he looked around at each face, he remembered what Fae had said. _"Kyoya, it doesn't _need_ to be that person's business for that person to care. Do you think any of these people _have_ to be here?"_

As Madoka cleaned up the wrapping paper, Kyoya's eyes turned to the massive box wrapped in red, still in Ryuga's clutch. He gazed up at him, waiting. Ryuga smirked and pushed it towards him.

Kyoya didn't know what to expect when he began to tear off the paper. It was big enough to be a stereo—perhaps he'd gotten him a sound system. But why? The one that they had was working perfectly fine.

It was a box. Make that _another _box, wrapped in the same scarlet paper, although a size smaller. Kyoya wrinkled his brow and picked it up, shaking experimentally. It was light. _Extremely_ light. And when he shook it, there was a thud. He tore off the new layer, only to reveal a smaller box, still wrapped, still red. He glared up at Ryuga, who gave him a sneer.

"I propose a drinking game," Nile announced, seeing where this was going. There were some murmurs of agreement and Nile stood up to find some glasses.

Kyoya ripped off a layer. One, two, three, four, and Nile, Ginga, and Masamune counted them with shots of lemon juice. Their faces churned with disgust, but all three were far too competitive to withdraw. Lucky for them, the box was now small enough to just cover the area of Kyoya's open palms, so he knew that it couldn't get much smaller. Tsubasa poured them one more round as Kyoya tore it open, saying, "If this is a sex toy or something, I will kill—"

He stopped. His heart sputtered like a faulty car engine, then started up again, faster, faster, like the beat of a hummingbird's wings. His ability to speak had been obliterated by the one, delicate box in his hands. But it wasn't red and it wasn't cardboard.

It was black. And velvet.

A jewelry box.

Madoka, being the only female in the room, recognized it immediately and gasped dramatically. Her hands fluttered to her mouth. Nile, Ginga, and Masamune paused their game long enough to realize something was happening. The glass in Nile's hand slipped and pummeled to the floor with a crash.

Ryuga stepped closer and gently took the box away from him. Looking into his face, Kyoya could see that all traces of humor had vanished, replaced with one so earnest it gave him goosebumps. Ryuga swiveled Kyoya's stool around ninety degrees, so they were facing each other, and dropped on his knees, elbows propped up on Kyoya's lap. He fiddled with the box while as he gazed into Kyoya's eyes. "I hurt you once," he whispered, as if they were the only two in the room. "And it was a really, _really_ fucked up time. I came to realize how miserable my life was without you. How much my life _sucked_ without you. I don't ever want to lose you, ever again. You're the most important person in my life, Kyoya Tategami. And I love you. So..." He slowly creaked the little box open, exposing a shiny silver band nestled inside. "Marry me?"

Kyoya only barely heard Masamune's cry of "_HOLY SHIT!_". He was completely transfixed on the ring perched in the box before his eyes. He was so stunned, he couldn't move any part of his body even if he tried to will it to. Then all of a sudden, he could feel his life filling back inside of him as the happiness grew from a sapling to a big, majestic oak tree inside of his heart. This was happening. This was _really_ happening. He felt as if his whole body was glowing with happiness and brushing against his skin like flames. _Yes. YES_, he wanted to cry, but his mouth was still numb with shock.

"Kyoya?" Ryuga asked warily, because the room had grown silent.

Kyoya's head snapped up, averting from the ring to Ryuga's eyes. "_FUCKING YES_!" he exclaimed, his speech finally scrambling back into his throat. He leapt forward and hugged Ryuga's neck, burying his face in his shoulder. Their audience cheered and clapped as Kyoya leaned back and kissed him, tangling their tongues together. His heart was swelled up like a balloon, lodging into the pit of his throat.

Ryuga pulled back, only to kiss his nose instead. He took the ring out of its cushion and slid it on Kyoya's left ring finger with a smile, which Kyoya returned. _Fiancé_. The word sent a thrill through his stomach.

Ginga, always a good sport, stood up on his chair and raised his glass high. "Cheers for the happy couple!" he declared. He gulped down his drink, then remembered what was in it and spit it out, a misty spray of lemon juice falling on Demure's hair. Everyone laughed, but not to tease him. Ginga smiled sheepishly.

Kyoya meanwhile turned back to face Ryuga, who had his eyes mid-roll. He caught Kyoya's gaze and bent forward to kiss him once again. Kyoya couldn't keep his hands off of him, either; he thought if he didn't express his love in some form, it would suffocate him. He crept forward, moving himself closer, his newly-ringed hand interlocking in Ryuga's dove-white hair. He moaned softly when Ryuga's own hands slid up his thighs. He had to break away to take a breath.

"You'll receive the rest of your 'present' later," he whispered, kissing his lips once more. Kyoya smiled into it. "In the meantime," Ryuga continued, standing up and stretching, inching his shirt up just the right length for a peek at his navel, "you shouldn't ignore your guests."

"They can leave," Kyoya uttered immediately, but Ryuga just laughed, shook his head, and pecked him on the cheek before exiting to do God-knows-what.

Kyoya was yanked up by his armpits and whirled around to face Tsubasa, who was beaming so wide he thought his cheeks would crack with the effort. "Congratulations!" he enthused. He threw him into a hug.

Kyoya hid a smile in Tsubasa's shoulder, the warmth of his body circulating across his skin like a cozy blanket. "Thanks." An idea popped into his head and he drew back. "You'll be the Best Man, right?"

Tsubasa's golden eyes grew wide. "You...you want me too...?"

"Of course," he said, "who else would it be?"

Tsubasa turned his head in the general direction of Benkei, who was completely ecstatic and had Yu in a bear hug. "Well..."

Kyoya shrugged. He knew what Tsubasa was thinking: Benkei was his loyal hound dog, always following him, ready to jump to Kyoya's aid twenty-four seven. But there was no doubt in his mind it would be Tsubasa, who had cared for him when he felt like he was nothing at all, helped him find the pieces of himself and form back together something that looked kind of like who he was. Hell, Yu could be the ring bearer, if he wanted to; he wasn't as bad as he thought.

Tsubasa grinned and hugged him again, and in his ear whispered, "I'm really happy for you."

Kyoya held on tight. "Yeah," he said, "me too."

**A/N: HOORAY! *cheers and throws buckets of confetti* :D**

** I fucking love true love asdfghjkl.**

** Next chapter will be up soon. It's going to be a LOOONNGG one, LOL -w-.**


	18. Chapter 18: DiRtY vIbE!

**A/N: Hey guys. I apologize for the longer-than-usual wait. I've been going through...how should I put this...some "deep shit"? Yeah, that sounds about right. Really, **_**really**_** deep shit.**

** And, this is a really long chapter, longer than any of the others...so it was going to take a while anyway ;w;**

** I hope you enjoy—it's smutty. And it involves some cross-dressing. -w-**

** Chapter 18: **DiRtY vIbE!

"_Leone_!"

He wasn't sure which one he was calling too—the one with the tail, scampering away from him, or the one in that one's mouth. He had his back turned for _one minute_, and when he turned around to get his drink, Leone was perched in front of him, his bey in-between his jaws. He could almost hear his crow of victory: _yipee-ky-ay, motherfucker! You can't catch me now!_

Leone whirled down the stairs like he'd consumed a six-pack of Red Bull, and Kyoya was literally on his tail, taking the steps three at a time. He chased him around the dining table, through the kitchen and back again. _God dammit, _he thought, _why does Ryuga always need to be out of the house when this kind of shit happens?!_

Leone rocketed back up the steps, and Kyoya took his chances and leaped, only to miss him by a centimeter. The cat scampered his way to the head of the stairs and then peered back to check to see if he was still being chased, the bey still in his mouth like a dead mouse. (A/N: *snorts*)

Kyoya heaved himself to his feet, and Leone darted out of sight, towards the bedroom. Kyoya reached it and thrust open the door. "Fucking cat," he muttered as he stalked through the room.

He rounded the front of the bed, and there it was, abandoned and left to die. Kyoya snatched it up immediately, then checked the face bolt, energy ring, everywhere for any sign of damage. It was spotless, save for a little drool. He grimaced and wiped it off with his sleeve.

He became aware of a distant purring; the culprit couldn't be far. He sauntered to the left side of the bed curiously, and there he was, rolling around on a green and white Lolita dress that was spilling out of a shopping bag, happy as can be.

"_Leone_!" he hissed, diving after him. The cat snuck out of his grasp and leaped onto the bed, where he plopped himself down, finally at rest.

Kyoya grumbled to himself as he examined the dress. That stupid, God damn dress. Ginga and Masamune had piled in their money for it, then shipped it to him. They called it an "engagement present". When he'd pulled it out of the package—thankfully while Ryuga was in the shower—he'd sworn out loud, then stuffed it away in the closet in secrecy. The only reason it was out was because he'd decided to clean their room to pass the time, and he'd moved it aside to the burn pile...which admittedly only consisted of this dress. He swore, the next time he saw those shitheads, he would gut them and have Leone eat their entrails. He bet they were cackling away when they'd ordered it.

He examined the frills on it, and some deep desire in him stirred awake. He dropped it like it'd burnt him. What was he thinking?! He backpedaled away from it cautiously. Did he seriously want to _try it on_? Was he that bent? Or was he just bored?

He traced the stitching on the hem of the dress, fingers absorbing the silky feel of the material. The thing was ridiculous: bows and frills swallowed the thing whole. The neckline was fairly innocent, not too steep, but still would reveal a good amount of collarbone. The skirt was skimpy, maybe a good length for a small girl, but definitely not for a full-grown woman. At least the sleeves were modest; they were long, probably wrist length. Hell—he even liked the color: a deep forest green, shimmering from the sunlight filtering in from the window. It matched the color of his hair.

His guard started to drop as he continued to trace the outline of it. _Does it hurt to just try it on? I mean, it's not like anyone but me will know...and afterward, I can burn it. Yeah. Burn_.

He repeated the word as he gently picked it up by the sleeves and pulled it into his lap. _Am I really this kinky? I mean, for the love of god...cross-dressing?_

He sighed, giving in, and stood up._ I can't believe I'm doing this_. He picked up the dress and towed it into the bathroom to change; he didn't want to change in front of the cat. Leone watched him mutter under his breath the whole trip.

He stripped himself of his clothes, then held the dress up at eye level gingerly, taking a good look at it and trying to force himself out of this. But he couldn't; he couldn't get rid of this urge inside of him. _No one else will know_, he thought. He took a deep breath and lifted it over his head.

The fabric was slinky and cool against his skin, and it tugged at his hips nicely. No matter how much he pulled at the skirt, it wouldn't budge past mid-thigh. It was scary how good it fit him, like it was tailor-made for him. It sucked that he'd never be able to tease Ginga and Masamune about knowing his size, and about them having some deep fascination for him—that would uncover the fact that he'd tried the stupid thing on.

He turned and faced the mirror, then frowned at his reflection. Because he looked..._good_. DAMN good, if he was being completely honest with himself. The white accented his hair, making it look darker and fuller. He looked like he was vulnerable and innocent and _too fucking cute_ in a just-fuck-me-now kind of way. He experimented and turned his knees inward, then winced and stood straight. That only made it _worse_. He looked so feminine it damaged his pride. He ripped the tie out of his hair and shook it out, brushing it across his forehead. The girly-ness only strengthened. Staring long and hard at himself, he realized he kind of looked like an actual girl this way.

And the horrifying thought was...he liked that.

He flashed an over-exaggerated smile into the mirror, then stuck his tongue out, then did a mock-curtsey. He actually giggled, and he slapped a hand over his mouth. But his smile still showed through his fingers.

Hell. Maybe being in drag wasn't as bad as he thought.

He crossed the hallway back into the bedroom and paused in front of Leone, whose tail twitched at the sight of him. "Well," he said, "How do I look?" He twirled in a 360-degree turn, arms spread like wings.

Leone mewled, rising to his feet for a better look.

"Oh, shut up," Kyoya snapped, ambling over and plopping next to the bed, giving him a scratch behind the ears. "You little troublemaker."

Leone mewled again and dived off of the bed, climbing into Kyoya's skirted lap, purring and rubbing his hand against his hand.

"Oh, _now_ you love me," he said, scratching along his spine. He turned his head towards the pile of shopping bags curiously. He thought he remembered there was something else...he climbed up, setting Leone aside, and crawled over to the bags, digging around until—ah.

Stockings.

He slipped them on, stretching them up to his knees, almost tearing the fabric from the strain. These, yet again, had bows, and were as white as snow. He had to laugh at himself. "Look at me!" he exclaimed to Leone, "I'm a motherfucking princess!"

Leone meowed loudly as Kyoya scrambled to his feet, whirling in circles, his skirt catching the air and lifting it up Marilyn Monroe-style. Music. He needed music. He rushed over to the stereo and banged the 'on' button. Immediately a talk-show host's voice filled the room.

"—_Alright! We've got Linkin Park's new song coming up soon, but first...here's a little Avril Lavigne for yah._"

Kyoya's eyes widened as the song began. No. No, this was too perfect. He turned his head back towards Leone, who was still watching him like he was a can of tuna fish. "What the fuck," he said out loud. "Did you do this?"

Leone meowed innocently.

"_Mom's not home tonight, so we can roll around, have a pillow fight. Like a major rager, OMFG!_"

He hated this song. He hated this song with the greatest passion. But then again, he'd already wrangled himself into a dress, was getting eaten alive by bows, and didn't even feel like himself anymore. So what was one more spin down the path of totality?

As the chorus bounced in, flooding the room with it's sugary-synched beats, he began to dance like a middle school-girl at a mixer: a lot of jumping around and not much else. He pumped his arms around, whirling around on his foot to the music, and even sang along at the top of his lungs. When he had learned the words, he had no idea, but they were pretty basic anyways.

He saw Leone watching him closely and bounded over, scooping him up in his arms and cradling him while he continued to dance like an idiot. The cat squirmed in his arms, wanting nothing to do with this, but Kyoya held on tight.

"Oh c'mon, it's a song about you!" he insisted, holding him up in the air. "Y'know, _come, come, kitty kitty, you're so pretty, pretty, don't go, kitty kitty, stay with me_?"

Leone let out a very convincing hiss, and Kyoya dropped him. He scampered away, barreling out of the room and around the corner.

"FINE! Be that way!" he called after him, flopping onto the bed. He took deep breaths, then began fingering the lace absently. "What the fuck," he said, "is _up_ with this dress?"

He lied there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the song come to a close and marveling at his idiocy. Somehow he'd managed to force himself into a dress, then listen to shitty mainstream pop music that normally would make his ears bleed. And for what—his own erotic desires?  
He inattentively began rubbing his thigh, slow, but growing harder with each stroke. He stopped immediately; _what am I doing?!_ It was bad enough that he was cross-dressing, but was he really going to masturbate? When did he become such a little whore? He blamed it on the dress. Damn this dress, damn these fucking frills. He bolted up and ripped off his stockings, then rushed over and slapped the radio off.

He tossed the stockings aside before falling to the carpet, slumping his shoulders and sighing. He had to be honest with himself: he was kind of horny. After all, Ryuga had finally gotten a job and was out working a lot of the time and when he _was_ home, he slept. They hadn't had sex since last month, around Kyoya's birthday. It wasn't just the sex, though; he missed Ryuga, too.

He realized he was staring at the closet and straightened. _Wait a minute..._, he thought, and rose to his feet. He hurried over and propped it open, crouching down to dig through a cluster of plastic bags that were still left in there. He raked through them like a beast in a heat until his hand brushed against his desired item, and his stomach flipped. He pulled it out of the bag and held it in-between his thumb and forefinger like it had a disease. He imagined the pink toy winking at him, as saucy as ever.

God, he'd never gotten this desperate. He'd never masturbated before, so this was kind of a touch-and-go situation. But he was so desperately needing a fuck right now, he figured, why _not _have it come from himself? (A/N: ...someone should put that on a t-shirt or something, lol XD)

He tore the package open and tossed it half-heartedly back into the depths of the closet before kicking the door shut. He wandered over to the bed and made himself comfortable, the vibrator in his clutch like it was a test tube. He glared at it. _God, it's huge. And the thing VIBRATES_? He picked up the little remote and set it next to him, then sat there awkwardly for a moment, because he wasn't sure if he was prepared for this. But he took a deep breath and shimmied his boxers out from underneath his skirt, tossed them aside, positioned the tip against his opening, and gave it a little push.

Nothing. The force wasn't strong enough to penetrate it, and he frowned, dissatisfied. He pushed the tiniest bit harder, imagining it was Ryuga towering above him, getting ready to fuck him senseless. The flow of blood in his body made a beeline south at the thought, and gave him the energy to keep trying. He hitched in another breath and thrust it as hard as he could.

"Ah~!" he cried out, the tip of the vibrator finally piercing his rectum and leaving an essence of sensual pleasure so intense it wiped his mind clean. His knees buckled, and he flopped back onto the comforter. "Ah...ngh," he moaned as he pushed it gradually inside until he was filled to the hilt, his insides overjoyed at being filled once again. Although the toy was smaller, it did enormously remind him of Ryuga being inside him. He grappled for the little remote and randomly hit a button.

"AHHH~!" he screamed, his world blowing up before his eyes as the toy pounded against his walls, much more powerful than he'd expected. "Ah...oh...ngh," he groaned, raveling his fingers through his hair. He continued to hiss and groan as he rolled around on the mattress, the slinky comforter shocking his bare legs with an explosion of icy cool. He slipped his hand down under his skirt and began thrusting the toy in and out of his opening, and a new tsunami of pure ecstasy washed over him. "Ohhhh..." _Oh god, this was _such_ a good idea_, he thought breathlessly.

He played around, knowing exactly what he craved. He slammed it inside of him, each roller coaster of luscious pleasure knocking the wind out of him, then slowly crept it out, achingly slow, sending him chills throughout his being. He kept the vibrations on full blast, rattling his inner core with electrifying intensity. He was glad no one could hear him; his moans were embarrassingly loud, but he couldn't help each one that slipped from his throat. It had been so long, _so _long, since he'd been in this state of bliss.

He did double time, his free hand finding his member, so aroused it pulsed in his grip. He stroked it from shaft to tip, arching his head back and bucking his hips inward. His vision was hazy, the white ceiling above him a blurred arrangement of criss-crossing lines. He massaged it with determination, the vibrator pummeling against a little collection of nerves, sending stars before his eyes. He was so tight, and he knew he was about to reach the peak of his climb. If he closed his eyes, images of Ryuga splashed across his mind. His body was rigid. "Ryu-Ryuga, HAAAH~," he practically screamed. "AHHH~! Ryuga, mm..."

_**SLAM**_. A distant voice and soft thumps that sounded like footsteps. Kyoya tensed in horror, halting his ministrations and his heart nose-dived into his stomach.

"Kyoya?" Ryuga's voice called. "Where are you?"

FUCK! He was home! There was no way he was going to let Ryuga see him like this, not if he wanted to keep his pride. He'd be absolutely humiliated! So even as his body, flooded with burning-hot pleasure, begged and pleaded for him to continue—he was _so_ close to his release—he leapt to his feet, knees buckling underneath him, causing him to almost taste the carpet. Dammit, why hadn't he checked the time?!

The dress. He had to get rid of this fucking _dress_. He ripped the zipper down and tore off the disastrous mess of bows, stashing it underneath the bed. He would burn it, he decided, but later. Right now he needed to find some clothes; he'd left his outfit in the bathroom. He wheeled to the dresser, stuffing the first articles of clothing he got his mitts on onto his body. As he scrambled to the bed for cover, he realized with horror that the vibrator was still clamped inside his rectum, joyfully filled, but he had zero time to remove it. He'd have to deal, because Ryuga's footsteps were approaching fast. He ducked underneath the covers, throwing them overtop his shoulders, and barely managed to close his eyes before a beat later, Ryuga opened the door.

"Hey," he said. "Sorry—were you asleep?"

He pretended to yawn. "Not really." It _was_ the truth...he most definitely had not been sleeping. He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and making sure the blankets covered his lap; he was still aroused as hell. "How was work?"

Ryuga snorted. "_Boring_," he said, moving over to the bed and greeting him with a kiss hello. He drew back, though, and examined Kyoya suspiciously. "Are you wearing my shirt?"

Kyoya looked down at it. He was: it was a black 3/4 sleeve shirt with the Chinese lettering for 'Year of the Dragon' across the front, its beast snaking through the elegant lines of the symbols with its fangs flashing at you with vicious endurance. He remembered Ryuga purchasing it at a thrift store. "I guess I am," he murmured.

Ryuga kissed his cheek. "I like it better on you," he whispered. He moved off of the bed and undressed with his back to him. Kyoya watched him, lust-thirsty, as his shoulder blades steepened as he stripped himself of his shirt. He wanted to kiss every inch of that chiseled back, have his lips ghost across those muscles...he had to look away to keep himself planted.

Ryuga peeled off his jeans and climbed into bed, draping the covers overtop of him and tugging him close, arms encircling around him and a cool cheek pressing against his temple. "You're so warm...," he mumbled.

Kyoya bit his lip. "Am I?"

"Mm-hmm." Ryuga's long fingers began to comb through his hair, which was still falling freely around his face. Then they suddenly stopped. "Kyoya, what's this?"

Kyoya's heart tripped. Slowly he angled his head back to see what had caught his attention, and his hands started to shake. _The remote_. Ryuga had the little remote in his hand, his eyes wandering over it as he flipped it over and over. Shit, the remote! He'd flung it backwards while in his fit of terror, managing to turn it off, but the blasted thing must've nudged itself next to Ryuga's pillow. His mind wheeled for an answer. "Um...it's...it's a universal remote."

Ryuga's eyes rose up, accusing him quietly with the intensity of his gaze. "Really."

"Mm-hmm."

"To what, exactly?"

"To the..." He glanced up at the ceiling in search of help, and his eyes landed on the ceiling fan. "...fan. And the lights...and the thermostat. I had it installed while you were working."

"Really," Ryuga repeated.

"Yeah. Surprise," he muttered.

He rolled back over to face the door, trying to calm down by breathing deeply through his nose. He heard Ryuga say, "You know...it's a little..._warm_ in here."

Kyoya almost cried out, barely managing to suffocate it, as the pulsating vibrations inside of him resumed, on full blast. The shock of it was what got him, pouncing from the shadows. He was so overwhelmed, so high on his own euphoria that he couldn't hold his moaned, even the softest of ones. He bit on his knuckles to try and get himself to stop, but to no avail. If anything, he moaned even _harder_.

"Hmm. The fan isn't turning on, Kyoya," Ryuga informed, his voice leaking with sarcasm. He kept clicking all of the buttons at hasted intervals, giving Kyoya a roller coaster of intense, spell-binding pleasure. He was leaving deep grooves in his hand. His member, which had died down a bit, was brick-solid hard and was starting to ache from not being touched. His hands _burned_. He wanted to touch himself _so badly_.

Something warm crept down to his sweatpants, rubbing harshly against the front of them. Kyoya's hand, punctured with bite marks, fell from his mouth as he gave a choked-off moan of delight, against his better judgment. He curled his body inwards, towards the wanderer now hanging at his waistband.

"What's wrong, Kyoya?" Ryuga teased, pressing the button on the remote that turned the intensity up to the highest, then set it aside to leave Kyoya in his hot mess of arousal. His hand crawled below the fabric, tracing around the hip bone and landing on Kyoya's shaft. Kyoya's back bowed, moaning into the pillow.

"God, you're hard," Ryuga purred in his ear, brushing his fingers along Kyoya's shaft, giving him goosebumps.

"S-sadist," Kyoya choked.

"What was that?" Ryuga clutched Kyoya's member tighter and quickened his pace. Kyoya felt a shiver ripple down his spine. He didn't dare open his eyes.

"Ryu—AHH! Mm, no...Ryuga, please..." The combination of the vibrations blasting against his core and Ryuga's rubbing was pushing him closer to the brink of pleasure, driving him insane with delight. His nails dug into the sheets, leaving indents. "Ah! O-oh..."

When he felt Ryuga's other hand shift and start to creep down the back of his pants, to his opening, he panicked. "F-FINE! Agh...YOU W-WIN! JUST—mm—shut it...SHUT IT OFF!"

Ryuga's hands evacuated immediately, and soon after the vibrations stopped. Kyoya was panting, breath completely knocked out of him, and clutching the pillow like it was his last meal. Ryuga tugged on his shoulders, requesting for him to turn over. Kyoya was so mortified, he wanted to crawl under a rock and get eaten by parasites. He hesitated a moment before turning over onto his back limply, fearing the absolute worst.

But Ryuga was trying not to smile. And failing. He said nothing, just toyed with a long strand of Kyoya's hair and brushed his hand across his collarbone. "So," he then said. "There's something wrong with the fan."

Kyoya frowned. "You're not mad?"

"_Mad_?" Ryuga echoed this as if it was the most preposterous thing he'd ever heard. "Why on Earth would I be mad?"

"Because...I..."

"Because you couldn't take it any longer?"

Kyoya felt heat prickle his cheeks. "Yes," he whispered.

"I'm not angry, Kyoya. _I'm _the one who should be ashamed, not you." He cupped Kyoya's face in his hands, bringing his lips closer. "I know I haven't been around that much ever since I got that stupid job, and I'm sorry. I've missed you, too."

That was all Kyoya needed to hear. He laced his fingers through Ryuga's hair and gave a gentle tug forward, implying his wishes. Ryuga kissed him full on the mouth, and his lips moved about him curiously, not having explored this area for some time now. An aching feeling in Kyoya's heart that he didn't know existed broke off of him and evaporated. He was back. He was his.

Ryuga slowly pulled away, but made sure their noses were touching. "Which is why," he whispered, "I asked for the weekend off."

Kyoya's eyes widened. "You did?"

"Yes. Just you and me, all weekend, to do whatever we please..." His eyes glimmered.

"Don't forget the cat," Kyoya reminded him jokingly.

"Ah, yes. The fucking cat." The two laughed in unison.

Kyoya vaguely began stroking Ryuga's hair. "Just you and me?" he murmured.

"Just you and me."

Kyoya beamed and opened his arms, inviting him into his embrace. Ryuga smiled and returned to him, kissing him with enough passion to steal his breath away. Their tongues slid across each other's, breathing each other in, their lips dancing to the drum of their ragged heartbeat. Kyoya ghosted his lips across the plane of Ryuga's cheek, up to his ear, and nibbled at the cartilage. He felt Ryuga stiffen and sigh above him, the pace of his breathing easily becoming irregular. Kyoya continued to nibble his way down to the lobe, pausing briefly to give it a sharp bite. Ryuga let out a little moan, igniting a spark of thrill inside of Kyoya. He moved down to the nape of his throat and bit at it experimentally. "I missed you so much," he breathed.

"Me too," was his raspy reply. His hand traveled underneath Kyoya's shirt and rubbed across his chest, causing him to lost focus and gasp. He arched his back into the touch, skin tingling underneath his fingers. God, he was _sensitive_. What was it about Ryuga's magnificent touch that riled him up so much? Just one little caress, and he became an aroused rocket about to go off. He loved it. He loved _him_.

Suddenly, Ryuga stopped his ministrations, and Kyoya opened his eyes. Ryuga was smiling with a hint of deviousness. "I have an idea," he announced, and peeled off of the bed.

Kyoya forced himself into a sitting position and watched Ryuga walk over to the closet and prop it open. He began digging through, searching for something, but came back out of the closet with a perplexed look on his face. "That's odd."

"What?"

"Ginga and Masamune sent over something a few weeks ago, and I was saving it for a special—" His entire demeanor shifted when he saw Kyoya's look of dismay. His eyes illuminated and a smile dared to break open on his face. "_No_. You _didn't_!"

Kyoya pulled his knees up and hid in them, covering his head with his arms. "Don't look at me like that!"

"You tried it on!" he declared.

"DON'T SAY IT OUT LOUD!"

Ryuga turned away from him, probably to hide the face that he was not only smiling, but forcing down laughter. Kyoya's face was an inferno. This was just what he didn't want: someone knowing that he'd worn a fucking Lolita dress, _willingly_. And of all of the people, it had to be his lover. He'd probably come home in a couple of days with a maid's outfit or something.

"Where is it?" Ryuga asked, still facing away from him.

"Under the bed," he whimpered.

He couldn't watch as Ryuga bent down and retrieved the dress, then climbed back onto the bed with it in tow. "Hey," he whispered, trying to tear Kyoya's arms off of his head, but Kyoya held firm to his little cocoon. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Easy for you to say," he griped. "You're not a kinky whore who takes satisfaction in being in _drag_."

There was a small pause filled with Ryuga rubbing his hand across Kyoya's back. Then Ryuga spoke. "I _do_ get off on feeding you, you know."

Kyoya's head snapped up. "What?"

"It creates the image that you're doing...something else." Ryuga was facing the window, but Kyoya could still plainly see the flush of scarlet on his cheeks.

Kyoya stared for a moment, then broke into a victorious grin. "I _knew_ it!"

Ryuga laughed and turned to face him. "See? Everyone has that side. You're just lucky mine wasn't chains and whips." He pulled the dress onto Kyoya's lap, spreading it out carefully, as not to crease it. "Now...can you _please_ put it on? I've had all of these ridiculous fantasies..."

Kyoya couldn't help but giggle, and he tore the dress away from him. "Fine. I'll get you back—but fine." He hoisted himself up and trudged back into the bathroom.

When he'd finally tugged the dress back on and zipped up the back, he turned again to face the mirror. The sight of him in a dress would be enough to send his older self into a raging fit, but today, in the home that he shared with the love of his life, and the acceptance of such a dirty side to him, he felt an odd sense of satisfaction and contentment. His insecurity was still way up, as it always was, but he forced himself to push it away from his mind. Because he was himself, all of him, whether he wore a dress or jeans, stockings or socks, bows or laces. He'd have to accept it, as Ryuga just had.

He waltzed back into the bedroom to find Ryuga lounged on the bed with his head turned towards the window, but at the moment of Kyoya's entry his eyes fixated on him, and his eyes amplified like two golden helium balloons. His eyes raked from Kyoya's hairline to his feet and back up again, inhaling the pleasurable sight before him. Kyoya saw him swallow. "Wow..."

"You like?" he asked tentatively, fidgeting with the skirt.

Ryuga slowly stood and slinked over to him, and when he was close enough pulled him in for a heart-racing kiss. Ryuga's tongue snaked over the roof of his mouth and to his lip, biting gently while his hands roamed over Kyoya's hips. His mouth crept to his ear, kissing along the jawline and up to the cartilage. "Fantasy has nothing on reality," he whispered huskily.

Kyoya shivered and replaced his ear with his mouth, diving his tongue into the grotto of Ryuga's mouth and tracing it hungrily. He was so drunk on lust, the world could end and he wouldn't have noticed the apocalypse outside of his window; his only desire right now was Ryuga, something unintentionally ripped away from him for far too long. And as Ryuga yanked him closer, he could tell he was just as ravished for him as he was; it was in the way he kissed, the way his hands journeyed across his body with the intent of never, _ever_ letting him go.

He felt the zipper on his dress being tugged down, and he broke the kiss to retort. "What the hell," he gasped. "You had me put this on, only to have it taken off already?"

Ryuga chuckled. "Sorry. I just missed you so incredibly _much_."

Kyoya smiled against his lips. "I did too." He'd said it for the umpteenth time, yet every instance it was just as true. He'd missed him, so, so, _so_ much...like a plant with a year without rain.

Suddenly he was swept off of his feet, and his half-shut eyes snapped open when the colors bled together and the world fell beneath him. "H-hey!" he cried out as Ryuga cradled him over to the bed. He was dropped against the pillows, and he had plans to defend himself, but his argument died against the resistance of Ryuga's mouth, which was traveling over his neck and sucking at his pulse point like he was drawing blood. He trembled, his toes curling, as he made his journey down to his shoulder, sweeping the sleeve of the dress down to expose more of his blazing skin to him. The dress wasn't doing much to protect him from the friction provided by Ryuga's body, draped overtop of his and becoming increasingly heavier with each kiss across his body. He could tell that Ryuga wanted to make this encounter everlasting, but Kyoya was growing tired of this teasing. He roughly bucked his hips upward to argue his case and Ryuga gasped against him. The gasp turned into a growl as Kyoya pushed Ryuga's hips downward, as if trying to have him penetrate him through the fabric, and continually ground their hips together, allowing Ryuga to feel the growing bulge forming beneath his skirt.

"Mm...Kyoya," Ryuga moaned against his skin, finding his lips again and collecting them with a kiss. Their grinding was growing increasingly more frantic, Ryuga returning the favor and practically pulverizing him. The barrier between them was becoming a bit of a pain, and Ryuga sensed this, removing his lips and crawling down his body. He stared down at a writhing, panting Kyoya with lust-drunken eyes, hand circulating across his stomach and continuing south to his treasure.

"You know..." Ryuga whispered. "I must be looking down at the hottest, sexiest, most _erotic_ little thing in the world. I could eat you."

"Shut up..." Kyoya panted impulsively, although he knew deep inside he enjoyed the sex talk. His words coursed through his veins and attacked his member with vigor. "Just..._touch_ me...please."

Ryuga chuckled. "Yes, princess," he said, bowing down to lie on his stomach.

_Princess_. The word might've forced some kind of dispute, if it weren't for the sudden clenching against his member. The retort warped into a cry of lust, hands digging into the sheets. He bucked his hips inward instinctively, moaning out load when Ryuga's pumping hastened and tautened. While his hand danced around his erection, Ryuga bowed down and continued to gnaw at the shell of his ear, whispering obscene and dirty things and making Kyoya's head spin. Lord, he was sadistic today. Kyoya was going to explode just from the fucking hand job. His dress was going to literally get creamed and become even more of a distress; it was creased beyond repair.

"Ryu—mm! —Ryuga, hah...not so fast, p-please...," he begged, jerking on his hair to try to get his point across, but Ryuga paid him no heed. His hand swept over and around his shaft, a magician armed with his wand. His tongue traced down his jawline and to his throat, licking underneath his chin and to his collarbone. His other hand slipped under the dress and found his chest, pinching his nipples and rubbing along to the rhythm of his pumping.

Kyoya's knees buckled inward, drowning in a river of ecstasy. The tension was building in his groin, and a brush of horror came over him. _No...this has to stop_! Mustering his abandoned strength, he flew his hands up and dove them underneath Ryuga's boxers, clenching around his erection with as much force as he could gather. Ryuga cried out, and his hands froze against their victims. He stared down at Kyoya with a bewildered expression—he could tell that that reaction was not out of infatuation. "Wh-what?" he breathed. "You want me to stop?"

"Yes—I'm about to _burst_, you brutal twat!" he gasped, removing his hands and flopping backwards on the bed.

Ryuga laughed out loud, relief washing over his features. "Oh. Sorry," he said. He removed his hands from their caverns and leaned back, watching Kyoya squirm and recover.

"_The fuck_," he puffed. "You're such an _animal_ today."

"Sorry," he said again. "I guess the sight of you...moaning and panting in this dress...it's such a _tasty_ sight."

"Are you hungry or something? You keep making food references," Kyoya teased.

"A little," he admitted, leaning down and connecting their lips together. "For you."

Kyoya's cheeks heated up and couldn't help but squeal a little against Ryuga's lips, throwing his arms around his neck. "Then let me make you feel good," he pleaded. "Please."

Ryuga chuckled nervously. "Shit."

"Please?" He held the syllables out and widened his eyes. To seal the deal, he grinded his hips roughly against Ryuga's. A little moan from him was all he needed to know his wish was granted.

Ryuga rolled over, straddling Kyoya on his hips and kissing him briefly before letting him go. Kyoya bent down to Ryuga's chest and nibbled at his pecks, sucking at one while rubbing with the other. He could feel and hear Ryuga's sharp intake of breath, sense his body tense as he licked and nibbled at the sharp red nipples. He slithered downward to his stomach, coating them in butterfly kisses, only pausing to rim his tongue around Ryuga's navel a couple of times. His gasp fueled him with arousal, and he continued on his journey downward to his legs, where his jewel lay hidden beneath a blanket of black fabric.

He yanked the fabric a half of an inch downward and released it from its cavern, kissing the tip and lapping up a small pool of semen that had leaked out from their previous foreplay. Ryuga stiffened and curled his toes underneath him, making small groans to himself. Kyoya wanted them to be louder. He took the tip into his mouth and sucked vigorously, grating his teeth over the pulsing flesh and lathering his tongue across the shaft and back. The salty taste of semen was a flavor he'd grown quite keen to tasting from all of their encounters in bed, and he made sure to enjoy every last drop of the savory experience. He stretched his lips over half of the length, springing a fresh reaction from Ryuga; he moaned loudly and arched his head back, unable to watch the erotic sight before him anymore.

With sight gone and all of his other senses strengthened, Kyoya took this to his advantage and ignited his sense of touch. He took a breath and swallowed the whole erection into his mouth. The effort made his eyes burn, but he continued to suck him, extracting the candy from the tip and licking it up to the very last drop. He was so hard, it made his mind a scrambled mess of pleasure, just imagining the pulsing member inside of him, penetrating him, _breaking_ him...he deep-throated the organ, allowing Ryuga to feel every inch of the hot cave of his mouth.

Finally, he received what he'd been aiming for: "Oh...fuck, you're too fucking good at this...," Ryuga panted, tangling his fingers in his hair and yanking on the roots. "Ah..."

He hummed while he worked, sliding his tongue around the shaft, to the balls and back, reaching up to rub in-between Ryuga's legs to torture him even more. Ryuga gasped. "Shit, Ky-Kyoya...slow down, ah...!"

Kyoya could sense he was close by the way his member was twitching and removed his mouth, kissing the tip gently before sitting up and wiping the pre-cum from his mouth like a hungry lion. He smiled proudly down at Ryuga and crawled down to kiss him, letting Ryuga taste himself on his mouth. "Was that okay?" he ragged.

"_Way_ more than okay...you're a master with your mouth..." Ryuga murmured against him, licking his tongue across the face of Kyoya's lips.

"Don't I know it," he replied huskily. He jerked when he felt Ryuga's hands creep under the back of his skirt, finding his ass and clenching it tightly. "Ah-!"

"I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll see _Mars_," he growled into his ear, giving the lobe a gentle bite. Kyoya shivered. He'd been waiting for this _all_ _evening_.

When Ryuga reached over to the end table beside them, in search of the drawer that held the condoms, Kyoya stopped his hand. "No, don't," he commanded, clasping the hand in both of his and staring at him with his deep, soulful azure eyes.

Ryuga's cocky demeanor immediately shifted. "What?"

"I trust you," he said, and kissed his fingertips.

Ryuga's eyes widened. "Are you sure? I mean, what if Doji—"

"_I don't care_," he cut off. _I don't want to hear that name in this house, especially not with you, not now_. "I _trust_ you."

Ryuga's face melted and he smiled, a smile warmer than the sun setting in the horizon and the sunset that was painted around it. "Alright then, love," he whispered. "All aboard?"

He had to giggle at the term; when Ryuga wanted to be, he could be such a _dork_. "All aboard," he echoed, kissing his nose. He raised his hips upward and hovered over Ryuga's erection, then hesitated. He blinked and face-palmed.

"What?" Ryuga asked.

Kyoya flushed, peeking at him from in-between his fingers bashfully. "The...the _vibrator_," he whispered.

It was still inside of him, after all of this time, lying in waiting for it to do its duty and blast your brains out. He'd forgotten it was even there—he'd been so entertained with finally being with Ryuga again, he'd forgotten the toy was still clamped inside his rectum.

Ryuga laughed. "Ah, shit. I forgot..." He reached downward and found his opening, and the electric-like touch made Kyoya tense. He took the tip of the vibrator and gave a gentle tug, but it stayed stubbornly inside its little hole. Ryuga frowned, but he was clearly amused. "The fuck," he said. "Does it not want to come out or something?"

"I-I think it's me; I'm really tight," Kyoya admitted.

Ryuga chuckled. "It's okay. On three, alright? One, two..."

And with a firm _thrust_, the toy was ripped out of him so sharply he gasped. He hated the feeling of emptiness that became of its departure, and it hungered him even more to feel Ryuga inside of him, to have them connect in a way only they have ever felt. He kissed him long and hard, running his tongue swiftly over the top of his mouth to show his desires.

Ryuga broke away, panting. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," he whispered back. He took in a breath and lingered his hips over him, then smoothly brought his hips down.

"Ahh~! Mm..." he moaned the second Ryuga's member penetrated him. A blast of pure ecstasy shot through him, ten times stronger than anything the toy could produce. He felt Ryuga groan beneath him as he sunk lower, fully sheathing Ryuga's erection inside of him and whimpering as he did. The pain was closely connected with the pleasure, making the feeling almost unbearable to take, but he craved it so much he didn't stop. He gradually rose his hips and let them fall, never fully letting the erection escape. "Nngh...o-oh..."

"Shit, you're so tight, Kyoya..." Ryuga said with a breathless laugh.

He bit his lip. "Sorry."

"No...no, that's not a bad thing, it's just...a-ah...," he sighed, as Kyoya brought his hips down again. "It's making me want to _ravish_ you..."

He trembled at the words and rewarded them with a quickened pace, letting his saliva work as a lubricant. It was true, he was extremely tight, but that only added to the sensations that detonated every time he brought his hips down. Every nerve inside of him was vibrating and pulsing, tingling throughout him and making his head spin. If the vibrator was a sanctuary, then Ryuga was pure _nirvana_...

Ryuga rose up to a sitting position, which allowed Kyoya a more comfortable stance, enabling him to wrap his legs around his hips. Ryuga lowered the sleeves of the dress so they were resting at his elbows and bowed his head, biting at his shoulder and making Kyoya gasp. "Hahh...," he whispered as Ryuga gave a rather sharp bite near his throat. He almost forgot of his task and slammed his hips down, and as he did, Ryuga brought his up with a mind-fucking thrust, so powerful it almost toppled him over. He cried his name into his chest. "Ryu-Ryuga, hmm..."

He arched his head back to let Ryuga's teeth have better coverage of his body, continuing to roll his hips in timing with his thrusts. His moans couldn't be contained, even as he bit his lip so hard it split. Ryuga was so _hard_, it only brought on more enticing, head-spinning delight. His head was swimming in lust. He never wanted it to end.

Ryuga suddenly pulled back and looked at him, and Kyoya blinked and stopped his movements, concerned. "Ry-Ryuga?" he puffed, digging his nails into his back. "Wh-what's wrong...?"

Evidently, nothing was wrong at all. The mere sight of Kyoya's flushed face, eyebrows arched upward and lips red from all of the kissing, was enough to tip him over the edge. He could almost hear the plates shifting and another side of Ryuga coming out, a side that was going to do just as he'd said: _ravish_ him. He was suddenly propelled backwards and onto the mattress, Ryuga's body crushing on top of him. Kyoya could barely scream his name before that very scream came undecipherable; Ryuga's hips drilled into him with enough momentum to stop a cemi-truck, and they were back in action, this time full-throttle.

"Mm-! Nggh...Ryuga, ha-harder, Ohhh...!" he cried, writhing underneath him as he was pounded into, _over _and_ over _and_ over_. His breath had been lost and he couldn't breath, but he didn't care. He was in such a state of bliss that he couldn't think of anything else besides Ryuga and the things he was doing to him, kissing him and fucking him like a _beast_. His throat hurt from all of the screaming and his legs burned, but he loved it. He loved the pain, and he loved the pleasure. And him. _Aleister Crowley_, he _LOVED_ him.

Ryuga rediscovered that little spot inside of him that made his vision explode with stars, made his body lose feeling and his mind wipe clean. He cried out and rocketed his hips upward to meet him, ripping him apart with the strength of the euphoria. "Aggh! Th-there! Nggh!"

Ryuga bent his head next to his ear, nibbling and moaning, drunk with arouse. "Moan for me, love," he murmured hoarsely. "Call my name."

"Ryu-Ryuga! Nnngghhhh!" he exclaimed. "Hah...Ryuga, f-fuck me! Fuck me until you tear me apart. You f-fuck me so g-good, mm!"

He felt Ryuga shiver from his screams and obliged, hammering into that little package of heaven and clawing at Kyoya's chest to try and keep himself from erupting. Kyoya was in such a whirlwind of elation, Ryuga's sweaty figure was a blur to him. He chanted his name loud, commanding in his hoarse voice _harder, harder_. He was being split open and tattered, but he didn't care, so long as Ryuga took the pieces. He belonged to him; his body, his soul, his heart, _everything_. They were bond like a knot, and no one could ever tear them apart.

"Ky-Kyoya...I'm not going to last much longer..." Ryuga croaked, looking at him with such lust-sunken eyes it made his heart burn.

"M-me either, hah...!" He dipped his head back, the ball of tension in the pit of his stomach overbearingly coherent. "C-cum inside me...I love you so much..."

Ryuga gave one last, final moan before he exploded inside of him, uttering out something that sounded like "love you too." Kyoya screamed his name, feeling himself finally burst and spill all over the two of them, in such a high of bliss he thought his heart had stopped beating.

Ryuga fell on top of him then, panting and sticky, but with such a peaceful face. He stared down at Kyoya, who was becoming dazed as he fell back down and let dreary paradise take over his body—well, save for his ass, which would be a problem for him for the next few days. He gazed lovingly back up at him, his breath pooling back into his lungs as he took deep breaths. "Kiss me, you bastard," he whispered, and smashed their lips together.

/.../

"We are _not _doing that, Kyoya," Ryuga scolded. "It should be kept as a memorial."

"_No_."

"Oh, c'mon. We could frame it and hang it above the TV, let all of the guests ogle at it."

"That thing is never going to see another face besides you and I," Kyoya told him sternly.

Ryuga sighed. "Okay, fine. But we are _not_ burning that dress." He tapped Kyoya's shoulders. "Arms up."

Kyoya obeyed, raising them over his head. Ryuga took the soap and gently lathered it down his arms and to his rib cage, caressing him like he was fragile. They'd finally gotten to do something Kyoya had always wanted to do: take a bath together. The tub was so full of bubbles, they were almost overflowing it and spilling onto the floor. He leaned back into Ryuga's chest and sighed dreamily.

Ryuga rested his hands on his stomach, locking him there. The stereo, taken into the bathroom for this occasion, was softly playing a We The Kings song, the powerful vocals of Travis Clark making the room seem so much brighter, despite the setting sun out the window. A stool rested beside them, holding a bowl of chocolate-covered strawberries. Kyoya picked one gently off of the top and turned his body halfway towards Ryuga, holding it up to his mouth. Ryuga obediently took a bite, letting it be slow, as well as his chewing, staring deep into his eyes. The sight of Ryuga's mouth full, the juice spilling onto his upper lip...Kyoya immediately turned away.

Ryuga chuckled. "Well?"

"I-I can see why that turns you on," he admitted, finishing the rest of the strawberry and trying to control his flushed face.

Ryuga laughed again and squirted some shampoo into his hand, rubbing it into Kyoya's hair. "Exactly," he said, massaging his scalp.

Kyoya had to smile a little.

"—_alright,_" the radio host's voice cut in as the current song came to a close. "_That was 'Secret Valentine' by We the Kings, and now, back by popular request, here's Avril Lavigne with 'Hello Kitty.'_"

"_Min'na saikō arigatō,_ _K-k-k-kawai! K-k-k-kawaii! Mom's not home tonight, so we can roll around, have a pillow fight, like a major rager, OMF_—"

_**CRASH**_. The bowl of strawberries sailed across the room and collided with the stereo with impressive precision. They both plummeted to the tile floor, and the stereo busted, the music choking off and dying instantaneously. Kyoya watched it with wild eyes.

"Hey!" Ryuga exclaimed, gawking at the mess of machinery and red fruit in horror. "I didn't like that song either, but why the hell did you—" He noticed Kyoya's bowed head and ashamed demeanor, and lit up like a yard of Christmas trees. "Wait."

Kyoya tried to sink lower into the bubble bath, but Ryuga caught him before he could become one with the water. He whined pitifully.

"Were you...when you were trying on that dress...you turned on the radio, didn't you?"

"..."

"_And that song was on, wasn't it_?" Ryuga said gleefully.

Kyoya covered his face in his hands. "Maybe..." His voice was muffled.

Ryuga laughed and sunk lower, nestling his back into the corner of the shower. "I wish I could've seen that."

"Shut up," he grumbled.

"Hey," he said, tilting his chin towards him. He kissed him, long and deep, erasing any embarrassment left in Kyoya's body. "I love you, okay?"

He smiled against his lips. "I love you, too."

They kissed for a while, tongues scraping against each other's and teeth biting each other's lips, hands feeling over their slippery bodies. Kyoya could feel a purr rising in his throat and pulled away so Ryuga wouldn't know.

Ryuga raised his eyebrows. "Hey, Kyoya."

"Hmm?"

He grinned evilly. "Wanna '_play truth or dare_' and _'roll around in our underwear_'?"

Kyoya's jaw dropped, and he sent a tidal wave of bubbles at his face. "_WOULD YOU SHUT UP_!" he hollered, but Ryuga only cackled.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed~ -w-**

** Songs Mentioned:**

** "Hello Kitty"—Avril Lavigne, watch?v=ElX3lf7l6H8**

** "Secret Valentine"—We The Kings, watch?v=rjrHC7oadpA**

** By the way, I know there's been a lot of controversy over "Hello Kitty". I put that song in this chapter because I'd already planned for Kyoya to do some cross-dressing, and I thought it would fit with the theme, and that is all. I thought it'd be humorous x3**

** Thank you for reading ;w;**


	19. Chapter 19: A Wrench in the Line of Fate

** A/N: Hello there, everyone. Thank you guys so, so fucking **_**much**_**. I mean that from the very bottom of my heart, just **_**thank you**_**. I can not express my love for all of you in enough words...the number is infinite. I know I say this a lot, but honest to fucking god I don't care. **_**Thank you**_**.**

** Your reviews, not only full of kinds words for the story, but also for me...asdfghjkl ;w;**

** Sadly, though, I have some terrible news. This story is going to wrap up soon ;w; I had estimated it to go on much longer, but as I was writing this chapter I realized that they were kind of being hypocritical, and so I killed the original idea.**

** Thank you, though. Thank you all for so much love :3 And don't be sad! I have three MFB fanfiction concepts already being prepped. Ironically all three are AU XD And one of them is another RyuKyo fic *throws confetti*.**

** Alright. Now please, go on and read -w-.**

** WARNING: Gore.**

** Chapter 19: **A Wrench in the Line of Fate

Dawn broke through the curtains, thrown open to welcome the new day invitingly. It splashed into the room and fell upon a couple cuddled up on the bed, inseparable by bond they shared inside their hearts. It was barely morning; some might consider waking up this early a crime, but to Kyoya, the early morning sunrise was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Well, second most beautiful. He traced a finger around on Ryuga's bare chest, feeling the supple texture of his skin, the faint hairs that started at his navel and journeyed south. The comfortable feel of Ryuga's jacket, thrown over his own shoulders instead of its original owner, brought him tingles of delight. His head fell on his shoulder as he traced and retraced the squiggles, completely at ease with Ryuga's arms around him and their legs crossed around each other's, and the soothing sound of The Script playing through their dated stereo.

"Would you ever do this?" he wondered aloud.

"Do what?"

"Be 'the Man Who Can't be Moved'," he tried again. "Say something happened and we got separated. Would you wait for me?"

"Kyoya Tategami," he whispered, "I would wait forever for you."

"Forever and ever?"

Ryuga chuckled. He removed his security blanket or arms, and Kyoya felt a brief spark of panic. It was soon diminished when Ryuga led him onto his lap. His knees straddled his hips and their fingers braided together. "How many times do I have to tell you?" he teased, but their was a note of seriousness in his voice. "I love you with all of my heart, from the very pit of it. Our souls are made of the same element; I've never been so connected with anybody in my life. You're the sun to my shine, and whatnot. _I love you_," he repeated. "You're my soul mate. I'd wait until the sun explodes to see your beautiful face again."

Kyoya felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips. "Did you just call me your soul mate?"

"Without a doubt."

Kyoya bent down and kissed the plain of his cheek, then up to his eye. He kissed those fluttering eyelids tenderly, like they were burned. "You're too good to me," he murmured. "I love you so fucking _much_."

Ryuga laughed. "I love you, too," he said, and at last their lips met once more. "What about you?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you wait for me? If the unthinkable happened."

"Forever and an eternity," he promised, interlocking their pinkies. He fell off of his knees and splayed himself across of his body, hearts pounding an irregular beat of love between the layers of flesh, muscle, and bone. _I'm the luckiest person in the entire world_, he thought as his tongue slithered between Ryuga's lips and licked across his. He felt Ryuga's hands grip his hair in response, one hand sneaking its way down to his ear and rubbing at the shell. Kyoya tensed—the skin their was still spotted with hickies from their fun last night. His entire body was sore, but all pain evaporated as soon as Ryuga gave a gentle pull downwards, kissing him so sweetly it could give a health freak a cavity.

_Just let the entire world disappear..._, he thought. _Let us just stay here forever_.

/.../

Monday evening, Kyoya was back alone in the house, but this time sated with an entire weekend of nothing but alone time with Ryuga. He smiled to himself as he took a nice, long hot shower, reminiscing about the promise he'd made this morning before he'd left to go to work.

"_Friday night I'll take you out for a nice dinner, okay? And we'll stroll the nightlife together...the stars and the street performers, the smell of fresh bread from the bakery down the street. You can count on that."_

Mm. Fresh bread. Maybe they'd get a box of pocky while they were there, or a box of muffins. Fresh blueberry muffins. He could feel the monster in his stomach growl with hunger, and he laughed to himself, hurrying with the rest of his shower in order to receive a snack.

Nibbling on a roll, he patted back up to the bedroom and went to bed, wrapping himself up in the cover and pressing his legs down on the cool sheets. The fan in the corner hummed delicately, lulling him into a light sleep.

/.../

_Thump_. The distant sound wrenched Kyoya from his dream, and it fizzled right before his eyes. Suddenly his dream, which could've been a happy one for all he knew, was a blank slate. He cursed under his breath and rolled over, trying to force himself back to sleep and for the dream to crawl back into his seams of imagination. He had a feeling it was a damn good one, too.

The footsteps grew louder. Over the roaring fan, they were fairly faint, but Kyoya had always had sensitive hearing. He flopped over onto his other side absently, wishing noiselessly for Ryuga to take off his boots.

The door creaked open, and he sighed to himself. He heaved himself up to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes, letting them adjust to the pitch blackness. "Hey, love."

He could see Ryuga's silhouette, the familiar crown of his spiky hair just a black smudge. He said nothing, as if breathing Kyoya's presence in.

"Look, I love you...but would it kill you to be a little quieter when you come home? Please?"

Again, no response. He did, though, move closer to the bed.

Kyoya sighed and reached out for him. "I'm sorry. You must be tired from work. Please just come to bed."

Cold hands slid into his, and Kyoya jumped, his heart falling into his stomach in warning. Because these weren't Ryuga's warm, tender and loving hands that he'd memorized sightlessly from all of their bundled-up nights together. No. These were hard and cold, too rough and too coursed to belong to him. He immediately yanked them away, crawling back so his shoulderblades knifed into the headboard. "You're not Ryuga," he cried. "Who the fuck are you?! _Answer me_!"

Dread pooled inside of him as the light from the window caught on the stranger's face, and he realized with a pang of fright that this man was no stranger; he was, however, a villain. His eyes were caught in the trap of two purple ones, vile and starving for a taste of the meal before him. His face was pale and his hair had grayed, but he still had the same sharp, cunning glare as always.

He licked his lips greedily. "Hello there, Kyoya. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"You fucking..." was what escaped from Kyoya's lips. His mind scrambled for some sort of escape plan. His heart was beating so fast, he was sure it would leap out of his chest. He was trapped in the eyes of the predator...the very same predator that had stripped Ryuga of his innocence and raped him, countless amounts of times.

"You look so very delicious in this jacket you're wearing...it's familiar," Doji pressed on, leaning uncomfortably onto Kyoya. He gritted his teeth as Doji's hand wandered to the sleeve of the coat. "Hm, oh that's right...this is Ryuga's jacket, isn't it?"

"Get the fuck off of me, you sick _pedophile_." He hacked up some saliva in his mouth and spit. It landed right on the mark, dead on Doji's cheek.

He gingerly wiped it off, looking at it as if it were a bug on his shoulder. "Now that wasn't very nice, was it?"

"Shut the fucking hell up! How did you get in this house?" he growled, feeling the lack of oxygen starting to take its toll, the room spinning before his eyes. He shook his head frantically, determined not to lose his ground.

"That does not matter," he insisted, pressing even closer. His hand snaked up to Kyoya's throat and squeezed. He cried out in pain.

"Now, I'll tell you what else isn't very nice," Doji continued to hiss, with much more malice now that his toy was malfunctioning. "_Defying orders_."

"What fucking orders?" he tried to scream, but it came out as a croak.

"I gave Ryuga a proper warning. Either he break it off with you and suffer the guilt, or I break you apart. I guess I know which one he chose."

Kyoya tried to retort, he really did, but his mind was such a fog, and the air was so thin...his body was compressed so sharply into the wood of the headboard. He couldn't breathe; his mind was swimming with snippets of random thoughts. Most of them were screams. _Fight! Fight you fucking coward, what's wrong with you?!_

Doji dipped his head downwards and found the pulse point on Kyoya's neck, and he whipped his head backwards, trying to get away. "Now it's my turn to have some fun...I haven't had any in _such_ a long time. You're much more wild than Ryuga, aren't you? Much more temperamental." He felt a pressure sweep down from his chest to his lap, sailing straight towards illegal territory. "However, maybe I'm wrong...maybe Ryuga has _softened_ you. Maybe you won't resist as much."

"_Get off of me_," he hacked. The grip on his throat strengthened, blowing any breath out of his throat in one harsh gust. He'd never been more terrified in his entire life. Not even when he was standing on the windowsill, ready for death to spread its wings and take him away. Not even all of those countless, tiring days in the desert, training and training in a desperate attempt to someday beat Ginga Hagane, his greatest rival, and he was about to collapse of dehydration. Nothing scared him more than this, right here and now.

Doji's tongue slipped out of his mouth and traced he line of his jaw, up to the back of his ear, while his hand managed to glide underneath his boxers. He jerked his legs around in a frantic attempt to buck him off, but he was heavy—he felt like an full-grown elephant. His entire body raced with horror, and his arms, pinned underneath Doji's weight, were useless. As Doji felt his erection, he felt a wave of nausea. _He's going to rape me. He's going to rape me. Rape. Rape. RAPERAPERAPE._

As soon as Doji's left hand wavered and fell from his throat, enabling him to breath, he made sure not to waste it and screamed at the top of his lungs. "_RYUGA!_"

_**SLAP**_. Doji struck him so hard he wiped his vision black, and he cried out. His head was thrown in an awkward position, exposing his neck to him. He was panting heavily, the rusty taste of blood filling his mouth.

Doji snatched his throat, breaking off any flow of oxygen to his windpipe. "You do that again," he threatened, "and I will cut off your tongue."

Kyoya made the mistake of whimpering. Doji saw this as a trophy and leered, then straddled his legs over Kyoya's lap to gain better friction.

Kyoya's mind was whirling. _This is exactly what happened to Ryuga. This is what Ryuga experienced...this same horror..._. He had to find a way to get him _off_ of him. His normal choice of weapon would be his bey. _Fuck that. Knife, knife, where's a fucking _**knife?!**

Doji reared his hips upward and ground them against Kyoya's, and the sickening feeling in his stomach began to choke him more than the hand tapering on his neck. He wanted to scream, he wanted to fight, but his body was rendered useless; it's only purpose right now was for Doji to have his way with it, because there was no way it could become mobile otherwise.

Again, the same thrust against his body, this time harder and with more momentum. He let out a whine of misery. Doji's hand crept across his member and pulled harshly against it, making him choke. Doji seemed to like his reaction and pumped harder, continuing to crush their hips together. His lips meandered down to his collarbone and licked across it, shivering from his own twisted pleasure. "You're such a good little whore," he whispered.

His boxers started to be shuffled downward, and he snapped, flailing against him. _No, NO, stop, you fucking vile piece of shit, __**get off!**_His mind knew so many insults, so much to scream and plead. He wished he could _use them_.

Doji hurled him backwards again, and the top of the back of his head collided with the wood. It throbbed painfully, and he felt wetness leak onto the pillows. Blood. He could feel the tears stinging his eyes, not only from the physical damage but also from what was happening emotionally. He was being ripped apart. He was being _used_. As his boxers slid past his hips, he found himself wishing he was dead.

_Ryuga...I'm so sorry..._

Suddenly the lights flashed on, uncloaking the horrifying sequence from its safety net. He whipped his head around and found Ryuga standing in the doorway, his hand still lingering on the light switch, his work apron draped over his other arm. His eyes were so enraged they could come alive and spit venomous fireballs. Kyoya felt himself panic, thinking that Ryuga had misinterpreted what was happening, but to his relief he saw that he was seething at the man draped overtop of him, not at him.

"_GET THE FUCK OFF OF HIM!_" he bellowed, charging from the doorway and leaping onto the bed, tackling Doji mid-air. Doji was hurtled off of Kyoya, his hand ripped away from his throat, and finally he could breath again. He swallowed the air gratefully, dry-heaving while his body shook from mortification. His entire body was trembling both from the fright and from the relief. Then he came to his senses and leaped to his feet, thrashing off of the bed.

They were sprawled out on the floor, Ryuga hovering above Doji's body, his knees pinning him to the carpet. Ryuga's hands were interlocked in a vice-tight hold around Doji's neck, who's eyes were cue-ball wide and losing their sense of life. Ryuga was screaming so loud, the walls vibrated around them.

"—_**YOU FUCKING DEGRADED SHIT, WORDS CAN ONLY DESCRIBE HALF OF WHAT I'M GOING TO DO TO YOU FOR WHAT YOU DID.**_" Ryuga was booming, and he clocked him clear across the face, his knuckles leaving indents on his jawline. Blood and teeth spewed from Doji's mouth. Ryuga rattled his head harder, making him look like a broken bobblehead doll. "_**I'M GOING TO SLICE UP YOUR BODY, ONE PIECE AT A TIME. SLOWLY, SO YOU'LL FEEL **_**EVERY OUNCE **_**OF THE PAIN THAT YOU'VE GIVEN ME AND HIM. YOU'RE NOT GOING TO HAVE AN EASY DEATH, YOU FUCKING HEAD OF SHIT.**_"

He scrambled for the bottom drawer on the end table, thrust it open and pulled something out of it. It was shiny, and had an obsidian handle. Kyoya realized with a spurge of horror it was a machete, the blade as long and wide as his forearm. It was polished—it was sharp.

Ryuga thrust it underneath Doji's throat, daring him to make a move. He didn't. Ryuga panted like an enraged werewolf in a stalemate with a hunter. "_**NOW DIE, MOTHERFUCKER**_**.**"

Kyoya couldn't let this happen. Not because he was showing any remorse to Doji, limp and terrified underneath him, but because he couldn't let Ryuga murder somebody—even if it was convicted of self-defense in court, Ryuga would still go to prison for manslaughter. He scrambled from the bed and jumped on Ryuga's back, trying to rip the knife out of his hand. "_RYUGA, NO_!"

"Kyoya, get off!" Ryuga commanded, throwing him back with his non-knife holding arm, so he wouldn't accidentally hurt him. He craned his head backwards to look at him, their eyes interlocking. One of his hands still gripped Doji's throat, the other the knife.

Kyoya's eyes were still welled with tears. "I can't let you do this. You could go to jail for this!" he cried.

Ryuga seemed to soften, just the slightest, staring into his lover's cerulean eyes. They were full of pleading, begging him not to go through with this—he was better than this. His hand clenched tighter around the handle of the blade. "Kyoya," he whispered, "please let me do this. _Please_. I need to know that he's fully out of my life—and yours—forever. I can't guarantee that if he's just behind a row of bars. He could escape. Come back. _Please_. I need to behead the demon."

At the word 'behead', Doji let out a piercing sob. Kyoya paid no attention to it, only to the sincere golden eyes that were boring into his, wild and desperate. He could see it in his rigid posture, the way his hands never wavered, the way his eyebrows burrowed over his eyes. He had to do this, not only because he wanted to, but because he _needed_ to. He needed to have this monster on his back off if he wanted to continue forward.

Kyoya made his voice small. "Make it quick," he murmured, never tearing his eyes away from his.

He saw Ryuga's shoulders hunch as his permission was granted, and with a small smile, he turned back to his duty and raised the knife, its position vertical. He heard Doji start to beseech with him, frantic and scared, as he closed his eyes. He heard a sickening _shlck_, then a thump.

It was over. Doji was dead.

He opened his eyes and absorbed the scene before him: Ryuga, hunching over a now lifeless corpse, still clenching the knife, and breathing heavily. Slowly, his grip on the blade loosened, and it rolled out of his hand, falling to the floor. Once Ryuga was disarmed, Kyoya crawled over and threw his arms around him, burying his head in the space where his shoulder meets his neck. Ryuga's hand reached up and intertwined with one of his, his head still bowed and his breathing still rough.

"You did it," Kyoya whispered, out of mere shock. "You killed him."

"I...," he murmured, still shaken, "I can't believe he's finally gone..."

There was a gruesome gash right where Doji's heart should be, the color burgundy spilling onto his gray suit. His eyes were wide and glassy, staring at the two of them hatefully, his mouth open as if trying to scream. Blood was caked everywhere—on the carpet, on Doji, on Kyoya, on Ryuga.

Blood. So much _blood._

/.../

The police weren't exactly happy to be working at 2:00 AM, but they didn't say anything when they arrived at the house on the Dead End.

The name brought a whole new meaning to Kyoya as he clutched tightly to his lover, not letting the police get their hands on him for even a second—not until they heard the whole story from the very beginning. He bowed his head and stared at the splatters of blood that wrapped around the bed where Doji lied, occasionally illuminated by a pattern of red and blue lights, where the corpse had now disappeared, ready to be hauled off to autopsy and then be prepared for burial.

He doubted anyone would visit that funeral.

"Mr...Ryuga," a policeman spoke up, frowning down at his notepad. He was a big and burly man, with an I'm-way-too-serious handlebar mustache and a goatee. "Could you please explain what happened?"

Ryuga gently squeezed Kyoya's hand, but looked at neither him or the officer. "Doji broke into our home and attempted to rape my fiancé," he said matter-of-factly.

The officer—whose nametag said he was Officer White—glanced over at Kyoya at the word 'fiancé'. "That would be you?"

"Yes," he whispered.

He saw him raise a caterpillar-like eyebrow. "Alright," he said, "and then?"

"I came home," Ryuga continued. "I heard some noises coming from upstairs and ran. I found Doji on top of him. So I attacked him."

"And then you killed him, out of self-defense?"

Ryuga's jaw clenched. "You could say that."

Officer White studied him carefully, then eyed Kyoya still holding onto his arm. "Mr. Tategami, you can let go of him, if you will."

Kyoya opened his mouth to protest, but Ryuga shushed him, placing a delicate hand on his chin. He turned his body towards him and gazed deeply into his eyes. "Kyoya, it's okay."

"No it's not," he argued, his voice timid. "They're going to take you away. Just because you killed a man who's shadow was hovering over us...you had every reason to kill him."

"I know, love," he whispered, and kissed him gently on the cheek. "Everything will turn out okay."

Kyoya felt tears burn his eyes. "I can't live without you, Ryuga."

"I know," he said, pulling him forward and embracing him, clutching him tight like he would break apart if he let go. "I can't live without you either. But think of it this way. You destroyed one of your demons—I destroyed one of mine."

Kyoya let out a strangled hiccup into Ryuga's chest, winding his arms around his chest and digging his fingernails into his back, his whole body trembling. It'd been a long night, full of horror and murder and blood, but it wasn't the reason the careful knot that held him together was unraveling. It was the thought that he might never see Ryuga again. Beautiful, wonderful Ryuga. The man he would walk through a field of fire for, just to hold his hand.

He felt a sharp jerk and realized that Officer White was trying to break them apart. He grappled at Ryuga's arms in desperation, but they were ripped away from him, and he was left empty. A streak of silver caught his eye...the glimmer of silver handcuffs.

Ryuga was oddly calm as they fastened them around his wrists. "I meant what I said," he announced. "I will wait forever for you."

Kyoya charged over and snatched his face in his hands, crushing their lips together and letting his mouth speak without words...an urgent reply that he couldn't find the words to say out loud. _Forever. Forever and ever. I will wait for you._

_Until the sun blows up_.

**A/N: Okay guys. The next chapter will be the last one ;w;**

** Thank you so, so much for reading, all of you. I love you guys so much :'D And I hope that in the future you'll love my new stories just as much as this one :3. **


	20. Chapter 20: Rise and Shine

**A/N: Wow. A lot of you were pretty upset that this story is ending...;w; I should address a few concerns, before I forget...because I tend to do that often :U**

** I love this story—it's my baby. And trust me, I want to continue writing it until the very end of time. Writing this story has been my outlet to a place I want to be, and it kills me to end it...this story is really all I've been thinking about since I started writing it. But not being able to end a story...that's a problem of mine. I started writing when I was eleven, one of the shittiest fics known to mankind. If you think your writing is bad, trust me—mine was **_**much worse**_**. It was **_**not **_**just because I was in fifth grade and couldn't spell worth a fuck, but also because I wrote characters that were Mary-Sue to the millionth power. I wrote that shit for another three years or so before I went through a major personality adjustment, read it over, and cringed...repeatedly. It is now sitting happily in a recycling bin somewhere in the world.**

** My point is, it could go on forever, but then I think it might be like chocolate: tastes amazing at first, but too much of it and you get sick of it.**

** Another topic brought up was the KyoyaxNile fic I'd proposed, and how long will it be before I post another story, etc. The reason I wrote all of this story beforehand was to test myself, to see if I was ready to really commit to it and not just toss it aside as some random idea my fucked-up brain decided to come up with while slumped in the back of Geometry class. I've already started writing the KyoNile (NilKyo?) fic, just to get a feel of it. I already wrote the outline in my head. I know I am capable of writing it. So, I'm going to work at this new fic differently than this one. It'll be here soon, I promise ;3**

** Alrighty. There is **_**one**_** more frequently asked question that I need to answer, but I think I should write this chapter first...it would kind of ruin it if I were to answer here :3**

** Enjoy.**

** Chapter 20: **Rise and Shine.

(_**5 years later.)**_

_**Klunk**__._

_**Crash**_.

Kyoya heard the sound, faint and muffled yet still audible, and looked up from his book warily. He glanced out the window just in time to peer down at a stream of honey-golden curls disappearing into the backyard. He smiled to himself, turning back to his book to try and finish the current chapter he was on.

_**"So you're in love with Spike?" Saunders asked.**_

_** Sam nodded.**_

_** "Huh...well that explains a lot."**_

_** "It does, doesn't it?" Sam said and tried to smile. "When I was little I thought those feelings I had for him were just a sort of fascination, and I didn't think of them as awkward or abnormal. I've always wanted to be around him, be close to him, be like him. I've always been completely absorbed in Spike and everything about him, but recently those feelings have been...stronger, and stranger. I've had this giant urge to just...do things. Like...kissing him." Sam flushed. "I guess that's when I found out I was in love with him, and that I was probably gay."**_

_** Saunders had been listening closely the whole time, and felt now was the time to say something. "Feeling like that isn't abnormal at all, and there's no difference in loving someone of your own gender than loving someone of the opposite gender. It's just less, common, and that's why some people might react to it. Humans have this strange tendency of reacting negatively to things they're not used to. But there's nothing wrong about being gay. You're just in love...and that's a great thing! It's just love, so why should the genders matter, right?"**_

__Another _crash_, this time more noticeable, followed by a muffled '_shit_'. Kyoya sighed, losing his place yet again, and gave up, sliding his bookmark between the pages and snapping it shut.

He heard the front door fly open, and the sound effects came in double doses—two sets of running feet, two voices. They came to a crescendo—he suspected they'd reached the stairs—and the tinkling of a young girl's laughter rang down the hall. A yellow blur barreled past his open door, then another, this one white, the one that eventually backpedaled to the doorway.

Ryuga's brow was damp with sweat, his white tank top splattered with fifty shades of blue. "I'll give you this," he panted. "She definitely takes after you."

He raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"She has your artistic side."

Kyoya stared.

"It's a little hard to explain, but our front lawn may or may not look like the Manic Panic Hair Color rainbow."

Kyoya snorted, then clamped his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. "How bad?"

"Dahvie Vanity would be proud."

Kyoya couldn't control his giggles. He folded one of his hands over his eyes and shook his head in amazement. "Oh goodness, gracious," he murmured.

Another loud_ clatter_ fired from further down the hall, and Ryuga's eyes rolled back into his head, groaning. "For the love of—Sunny. _Sunny_,_ that's not a toy_!" he hollered, as he disappeared from the doorway once again to chase after her.

Kyoya chuckled to himself, deciding to keep his position and not risk looking like one of Sunny's famous any-shade, every shade Picasso's. It was true; she had a love not only for art, but for color itself. She was fascinated with every shade light could produce, and was always outside, marveling at Earth's natural wonders. She would return to the house for dinner later in the evening with flowers stuffed in her arms, and while they ate lasagna she would launch into her latest exploring adventure, green eyes illuminated and hands animated with finger rabbits and butterflies. She was a cute kid.

He absently began turning his wedding ring around on his finger, where there were already grooves from the many times it had occurred. He watched his fingers slide it around and around repeatedly, and felt any tension that could of existed fade with just the reminder of the fact of how lucky he was. He told himself that every day, every time shit happened and it tried to eat away at him. Ryuga was home, they were happily married, and they'd adopted a beautiful little girl just a year after his release.

It was so astonishing, he still marveled at it to this day. They both suspected Ryuga would rot in there, but after a year and a half he had a probation, and after the two of them relayed everything—_everything_—that had happened, the jury rendered him not guilty. The entire session was a blur up until that moment, the only moment that really mattered to either of them. He remembered seeing the shock in Ryuga's eyes once it had been announced, the pure amazement as the handcuffs were removed from his wrists. The first thing that had happened was Kyoya leaping from his seat and soaring into his open arms, his legs off of the ground as Ryuga whirled him around on the spot, the two of them laughing like maniacs from happiness. He remembered the jury looking on, watching the two of them, a few with a hint of a smile on their lips.

He'd invited them to the wedding.

_The wedding_. He smiled in remembrance, slumping back on the pillows and gazing up at the ceiling. That was a beautiful day. They'd barely managed to catch the last few trails of summer by having it in August, just as Mother Nature began to grow the days steadily colder. They'd had it in the secret garden, _the_ secret garden—the one where Ryuga had finally opened up to him. Sakura blossoms were _everywhere_, the wind sweeping them in little cyclones around them while the priest tried to do his job and take this seriously, but they were too distracted plucking petals from each other's hair and laughing to one another. As far as Kyoya was concerned, they were already married right then. They'd been married a long time ago—they just hadn't had it down in writing.

Yu had eventually brought the rings up in their little box, looking really happy to be wearing only a dress shirt and pants and not some ridiculous aristocrat outfit—Kyoya and Ryuga had insisted that their was no dress code, even though almost everyone had shown up in formal attire anyway—and handed the box over, giving Kyoya a little hug around the waist before retreating to the groomsmen side of the aisle. They'd exchanged rings and vows, never breaking eye contact from one another and never once letting go of their clasped hands. The preacher had barely said "you may now" before Ryuga had leapt forward and thrown him in his arms, kissing his lips like they were an antidote for his misery of not having them pressed against each other. It was in that moment, that kiss, that wrapped every loose end inside of Kyoya back into it's bow and left him with the sense of security, the knowledge that no matter whatever the fuck happened after this day, everything was going to be alright. Because he wasn't alone anymore; he was surrounded by people that would give their right arm for him, and one person that would give his entire being just to have him safely home, one that loved him enough that he would walk across the world on a road of hot coals just to see him again. And he knew that he would do the same, faster than a heartbeat.

He had found "the one"—that one person that everybody desires for in life, that person that fills all of the holes inside of them and makes them complete. The person he was destined to be with at birth, whether the stars aligned it that way or some god fucked around and brought them together, he didn't care. Fate had taken its course, and had led him to Ryuga.

Speaking of the matter—as he rose out of his daydream, he caught the approaching banter of footsteps and the sound of struggle. He sat up just in time to see Ryuga dash back into their bedroom, wrangling little Sunny in his arms like she was five-months-old instead of five-_years_-old. She was squealing, but it was with glee; she was enjoying the excitement. Ryuga was trying to keep his expression composed, ready to scold her for her mischief, but he cracked with one look into her bright emerald eyes.

He pretended to sigh as he wrestled with her onto the bed. "I swear, kid, you're going to be the death of me." She stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

Kyoya noticed the trail of purple paint down the left side of her cheek and swiped it away with his finger. Sunny immediately turned her head towards him, beamed, and fell into his lap. "Daddy!" she giggled. "Father chased me around the yard."

Kyoya ran his hand through her hair. "I see that. What exactly were you doing out there anyway?"

"Painting!"

"Painting what?"

"The grass!" she exclaimed, crawling up to her knees, propping her hands on his chest. "There was a big problem with it."

"And what was that?" he led on.

"It's all the same color!" she wailed. "It's all the same green, green, green. Why does it have to be just green?"

"Maybe that's the way it was supposed to be."

"But I don't like it." She frowned and crossed her arms, puffing out her cheeks. "Flowers aren't all one color, so why should the grass be?"

Kyoya ruffled her curls. "I know, sweetie. It isn't fair. How about this—give father and I a minute, and then we'll all go out and paint the grass together. How does that sound?"

Her face absolutely elucidated. "You mean it?"

"Of course. Why don't you go clean up, and we'll be out in a few?"

"Okay!" She pecked Kyoya's cheek, then Ryuga's, and leapt off the bed, scurrying out to the bathroom to wipe all of the paint off of her face and dress.

Ryuga watched her go, then turned back towards Kyoya. "You go far too easy on her."

"She's just trying to express herself, Ryuga. If we try and hold her back, she's going to rebel really badly when she's older."

"Oh please. You just can't stand the sight of her crying."

"Was what she was doing really all that bad?"

He sighed. "No," he admitted, not liking having to admit defeat. He crawled over to him, spreading his body on top of his and gently toying with a loose strand of Kyoya's ponytail. "It's just that I bought that paint because I was going to repaint the house, and now our front lawn looks like we stepped into Fairyworld."

He couldn't help but laugh. "Our house looks just fine," he argued, catching him in the act. "What was it _really_ for?"

Ryuga shifted above him, clearly uncomfortable. "Um..." He scratched the back of his head nervously. Then he groaned. "It was going to be a surprise."

"What?"

His lips pursed. "I was thinking like...," he said, "painting a mural on the front of the house. That way the whole fucking world can see it."

"A mural?"

"Like, a lion...a dragon...and a dove."

Kyoya felt the brush of warmth creep from his cheeks to his toes. "That's so sweet."

"Shut up," he muttered, but returned Kyoya's developing smile. He bowed down to kiss him, forking his tongue between Kyoya's parted lips and sliding it across his, his cool breath washing onto his tastebuds and making his insides flutter with happiness. He still had the lingering savor of freshly ground coffee on his tongue, the taste that forevermore would be his pleasing aroma. His skin was damp from the blistering heat outside, his hair windblown from the running; he was wild and open, a stallion free of his reins and running in the wind. He found he loved Ryuga best this way; it was when he was in his natural element, so open, havoc-inducing and reckless. He didn't need to watch his step. He didn't need to be careful.

Kyoya's hands found Ryuga's waist and began to gently lead his shorts downward, caught up in this moment of flustered desire. Ryuga immediately retreated, pushing his hands away. "Nuh-uh. Not with the kid so close by."

Kyoya let out a small whine of complaint. "Oh, c'mon. She has to learn about this shit sooner or later."

"She's barely five-years-old, love. I already told her that babies come from garden gnomes, I don't know how I'm going to explain it if she finds us...doing anything."

Kyoya frowned. "She _is_ five-years-old, isn't she?"

Ryuga frowned with him, sensing something was off. "What are you thinking about?" he prodded gently.

"She skipped preschool, but come September she has to be enrolled in a public school," he explained. "She's going to be in kindergarten."

"Right," Ryuga agreed. "What's the problem?"

Kyoya didn't need to answer. Ryuga figured it out by the way he ducked his eyes away, biting his lip, and the way he balled both of his fists around the fabric of his tank top. Suddenly the reason was obvious. "You're worried she's going to be bullied, aren't you?"

He winced and nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I'm sure she'll make friends; she's so sweet to everybody, and she's friendly enough. But sometimes kids can be so mean to the nicest of people, for no reason other than getting pleasure out of kicking someone down. Just to make them feel bigger. And on top of that, they might give her shit because she has two fathers...what if the parents have a problem with having gay parents?"

"Fuck them," Ryuga snapped, and Kyoya jumped at the sudden outburst. Their eyes connected, and Ryuga's softened when he saw the actual fear in his blue irises. He lowered his voice. "I'm just saying that, just because we love the same gender doesn't mean that we love our kid any less than they do theirs. If homophobic fucks have an issue with us kissing in front of a group of kids, than they can go to hell; it's their problem that they have to deal with."

Kyoya sighed deeply, trying to let the oxygen flow through his nose and relax his body. "I know."

"Besides, they let their kids shoot toy guns at each other, let them pretend to kill each other; they have bigger problems than two men being in love."

That made Kyoya laugh, and Ryuga looked relieved to see the joy spread across his face and awaken his smile. "You've got a point there."

Ryuga grinned. "I know," he boasted, then became earnest, brushing Kyoya's untidy hair away from his face. "She's going to be just fine, Kyoya. There's no need to worry."

Kyoya kissed his lips. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never be without me," he insisted, intertwining their fingers together and kissing his knuckles tenderly. "I'll never leave you, ever again."

Ryuga was bowing down to kiss him once more when they both heard the impending sound of Sunny's little feet, along with her voice. She was squealing something like, "look what I found! Look what I found!"

Ryuga managed to shuffle off of Kyoya, just as she flew into the room. She had a bundle of gray fur in her arms, which seemed to be squirming and trying to get free, even though it was probably much safer in Sunny's arms than hurtling to the floor. Her green eyes were sparkling as she held out the object for them to see. "Kitty!" she exclaimed.

Kyoya chuckled as he sat up. "You found Leone?" But as he got close, he started to notice something different about the little thing rolling around in her cradle—like the fact that it really was _tiny_, its fur was darker, and its barely-open eyes were blue, not green. It noticed Kyoya watching it and mewled, a desperate cry for help.

"What the fu—Funion." Ryuga barely managed to catch himself, for he was just as in shock as Kyoya was. He held out his hands, and Sunny dumped the kitten into them. It let out another mewl. "Where'd you find this little guy?"

"Out in the yard, underneath the big oak tree," she said. "You should've seen it, father—there was a whole bunch of them!"

"A whole bunch of..._kittens_?" he asked warily. She nodded eagerly.

Kyoya and Ryuga exchanged nervous glances. Although the eye color and fur color were different, the kitten still had the same black stripes going up and down its back, and around its face. There was a very high possibility that this apple had fallen from the tree. "I thought you said he was a male cat," Kyoya said, feeling almost as if part of his life was a lie.

"That's what the veterinarian said!" he protested. He could tell he was confused, if not completely panicked.

"Do you want to see them?" Sunny asked innocently, unaware of their minds literally being blown.

"_Yes_," they both declared in unison.

/.../

Sunny scampered outside, the summer breeze billowing her honey-blond curls behind her like a wedding veil. Her dress was practically glowing underneath the sun, and Kyoya fanned himself with his shirt as he stepped out into it, unaware it was so scorching out here. Ryuga took his hand as they followed her to the backyard, right to where the oak tree still loomed over it like a dark memory.

She crouched down and waved them over. They huddled beside her. "See? Aren't they cute?" she asked.

Kyoya let out a gust of breath, relieved. Yes, they were adorable, as was the mother, who was white with brown and black spots and definitely not Leone. She purred happily as her motley crew of four kittens squirmed on top of her, next to her, or on top of each other. Two of them were cinnamon brown, another was white and spotted like its mother, and the last one looked just like Leone, even with the same green eyes. Sunny replaced the kitten in her arms back on the ground beside its mother, who greeted it happily back with a nuzzle against the cheek. _And then there were five_.

"Thank god," Ryuga breathed, scratching the mother cat behind the ears, who looked too tired to protest. "This must mean that Leone's the father."

"Yeah," he agreed, watching the little kittens wiggle around, barely able to support themselves on their paws. It was so cute it was stupid. He felt himself grinning as the little spotted one tripped and fell on its face, meowing loudly like a broken record. He gently lead it back on its tiny feet.

"They can stay, right Father? Daddy?" Sunny's green eyes were the widest he'd ever seen, and practically glowing with hope. The kittens seemed to be attracted to her essence and were trying to crawl into her skirted lap, miniature claws digging into her knees.

Kyoya hesitated, sharing a look with Ryuga. He knew it would break her heart if they said no, but the thing was, they weren't sure if they could handle having so many kittens to take care of. They were a lot of hard work, and the care would be expensive as fuck.

Ryuga took a breath, preparing to let her down easy. "Sunny—"

But before he could say anything, Leone rushed in like he was Superman from across the yard. He had something in his mouth, and as he got closer Kyoya saw it was a dead rat. He plunked it in front of the mother cat, then nuzzled his nose with hers. She purred, obviously delighted to see him.

"See? They're his _family_. We can't get rid of his family!" Sunny protested.

Ryuga's eyes flickered back and forth between the abundance of cats and Sunny, torn between responsibility and making his daughter happy. Eventually, his shoulders collapsed, and his head fell into his hand. "Fine. They can stay."

"Yay!" She cheered. She swooped the little black kitten up in her hands, holding him up in the air like he was Simba. "You hear that, Ash? You and your brothers and sisters can stay!"

Kyoya glared at Ryuga. "And you tease _me_ for being too easy on her."

Ryuga shot him a look between his fingers, then sighed and shook his head. He tousled Leone's fur. "You better fucking pay child support, you horny son of a bitch."

/.../

_**(September)**_

Kyoya tucked his sweater tighter around his shoulders as he approached the school building, burrowing his head deeper into the crook of Ryuga's neck. His arm was slung around his shoulders to reassure him, but it did nothing to help his nerves. He didn't like the sight of a school building; it brought on horrible memories. But they were here for Sunny, to pick her up on her first full day of kindergarten.

Tiny children streamed out the doors, some still lingering by the side of a pretty young woman who must be there teacher. One of them had a familiar head of blond curls, a The Nightmare Before Christmas backpack strung over her shoulders. Jack Skellington was smiling at them, as if in waiting.

Sunny turned her head a margin and saw them approaching. Her smile broke free on her face. "Daddy! Father!" she cried, charging away from their teacher and falling into their arms.

"Hey, kiddo. How was school?" Kyoya asked nervously. He braced himself for the worst.

Instead, her expression deemed only rainbows and butterflies. "I _love_ it here!" she enthused. "I already made a friend. She's the daughter of our teacher."

"Really?"

"Yeah! Can I go say goodbye?"

"Of course," he agreed. She flashed them a warm smile before running towards a girl with long auburn hair and freckles. They giggled and held hands.

Kyoya became aware of the teacher watching them, and brought himself to attention. He dared himself to step closer. "Hello."

"Hi," she replied, her lips spread in a genuine smile. "You're Sunny's guardians?"

"Yes," Ryuga agreed. "Is she behaving well?"

"She's absolutely wonderful—in fact, she's a relief. She has this optimistic point of view, and sometimes...sometimes it can really bright up a person's day," she admitted. "Sorry—I'm Miss Chaney. Nice to meet you."

"Ryuga. And this is Kyoya," he offered. Kyoya smiled meekly.

She nodded as each name was said. "I think it's great that you two are so open about your relationship. Some people can run scared at the thought of coming out...I know it took me a while to."

Kyoya's head snapped up. "You what?"

She laughed nervously. "I'm a lesbian."

He felt Ryuga nudge him with his elbow, and he ducked his head. He didn't want her to have to question why he was grinning so big. "Oh. I mean, that's great. I mean—"

She laughed again, breaking him off. "I understand what you mean, it's alright." She glanced over their shoulders, towards where her daughter was calling for her to hurry up. "I have to go. It was nice officially meeting you. Parent-teacher conferences come in October; I'll be sure to send a notice."

"Okay."

She waved as she scurried over to her daughter, taking her hand and leading her towards a bright blue pickup. Kyoya watched them go, completely astonished.

Ryuga took his chin, turning it towards him. He was giving him these bedroom eyes that made his knees feel like they were made of jelly. "What did I tell you?"

"How was I supposed to know their teacher was going to be a _lesbian_?" he demanded, still unable to process it.

Ryuga chuckled, then kissed him, right there in a field of five-year-olds, like he didn't have a care in the world. Kyoya winded his arms around his neck and pulled himself closer, balancing on his tip-toes in order to angle his head steeper and deepen the kiss. He was taken back to The Mornings, when it was just them, the sun, and the radio serenading them while they were tangled together on the sheets, incapable of accepting that the day was here and it was time to act like practical adults. The mornings when he felt like his heart was on a sprint, it was beating so hard, like it wanted to leap from his chest and nestle itself next to Ryuga's. The times when everything felt right in the universe, like there was no anger, no war, no prejudice; only the flower-child thoughts of peace, love, and positive vibes. And now, standing right there and kissing him so lovingly it made his body heat, he didn't need to be enclosed in a house to feel this whole. He had reached nirvana; he felt as if nothing could ever go wrong again.

Ryuga gently pulled away from him, giving him a sadistic smirk. He kissed his blushed cheeks, then took his hand. "Let's go home, okay?"

Home. _Such a confusing word_, he thought, as Ryuga heaved Sunny onto his shoulders and they walked back to the car together. _Because, home is where the heart is..._

_ And my heart is right here._

**A/N: ...It's...it's done...**

** ...**

** *doesn't know what to do with life now.***

** Wow. I finished a story! It feels nice :3**

** Alright! Now onto the NilKyo fic. I already have the outline in my head and everything, asdfghjkl 8D**

** What I couldn't say at the beginning involved the topic of M-preg. I will say I have never written one, nor **_**read**_** one, before, and I don't think I'm ever going to. Sorry if this disappoints anyone ;w;**

** Book Kyoya is reading: **_**Spike**_**, by Elise Marie Syvertsen. It's not actually completed, but she published the first fifteen chapters online...I really love the story. I really do. I hope she doesn't mind my shameless promotion of it o7o.**

** Her DeviantART username is "oomizuao". You should go check her out -w- Her art is AMAZING.**

** Thank you. **_**Thank you thank you thank you**_**. Thank you so much for reading my story, for reviewing, everything. Thank you so bloody **_**much**_**. I love you, and I hope you will enjoy my other stories as much as this one ;w;**

** See you soon!**


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